The Furry Forums
Creative Arts and Media => Roleplay => Serious RP => Topic started by: Xavier Akafur on July 20, 2015, 07:20:55 AM
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Branches whipped at the boy's arms and face, his lanky limbs a sore protection against their lashing. The small lacerations and cuts were the furthest thing from his mind, however, as he sprinted through the darkening forest. Limbs snapped and branches broke behind him, the sound only spurring him faster in his panic. Fate was not with the boy this day, as he stepped into a hidden crag of rocks and went spilling down a hill. The world was a blurr as he went head over heels, the dark grey sky jumbling confusingly with the darkness of the forest and the churning dirt.
With a dull thud he came to rest against a tree trunk, dazedly staring up at the canopy above him as blood began to trickle down his face. Surely he was doomed like all the others. Surely those fanged teeth would find him, tearing him to bloody scraps. Surely....
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The sun beat down on the cheery village, making the brightly colored traveler all the more outstanding as the rays brought out all the vibrancy of his rather peculiar attire. The otter-wolf was quite used to standing out in a crowd, not that this little village could muster much of a crowd. Hell, the place probably wouldn't fill a tavern on a rainy night. He was standing before a stretched leather board, protected by a small wooden overhang. It was a newly constructed board, and something you did not often see in a village as small as this. A single notice was nailed up in the center, something the hybrid did not fail to notice. Did they construct a bounty board just for this one request? He leaned in closer, his green eyes sparking with intrigue.
"Wanted: Hound of the Lockwise Forest"
"Offered Reward: 500 silver coins, or 10 acres of land"
"Proof of death required, present to town hall"
Xavier's lips turned up a little at the corner. The bounty was hardly enticing for him, though he knew to anyone who lived here that was a fortune. No doubt it would amount to years of taxes for the villagers. This Hound must be a serious problem.
He paused suddenly, pointed ears perking ever so slightly. A scent, a gust of wind.... something had pulled at his attention. Magic? His eyes sifted around slowly, noticing that for a small village there was a good bit of foot traffic on this particular day. Many merchants from out of town were setting up for the day, the early morning bringing with it strangers from out of town it seemed. Perhaps today would prove interesting after all!
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The bull terrier scratched his head as he trudged through the small village – another town to pass through so far as he was concerned unless something of interest caught his eye. For such a small town it seemed busy, and that alone was enough to make him sneer ever so slightly. He never preferred crowds and would avoid them if he could help it though here at least the crowd had goods. His tail whipped behind him idly in an irritated manner as he made his way past the various vendors until he arrived at a board with a rather colorfully dressed male.
If anything were worthy of catching his attention, it was the man's attire, brightly colored and standing out like a sore thumb against the desaturated hues of his surroundings. For a moment, Mort stared with those hyper focused triangular eyes – not that he had any room to talk with his own attire, which was decorated with glass orange eyes at the buckles and striped pants. It didn't take long for his eyes to direct the the newly erected board and the notice that seemed to barely flutter, as if to invite the bully's eyes to read.
“Didn't think such a small bounty would be so interesting,” he commented, giving a side glance to the hybrid beside him. The man couldn't have been native to the area with that clothing. “Guess that's how it is when it's the only one, though,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
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"At least the roads here aren't to muddy..." the Vorsord muttered to himself. He hated muddy roads. They had a tendency to suck off the horseshoes of his horse, Junior.
He saw something quite peculiar, at least for a small town such as this. It was a message board. And... what made it even more peculiar was... two creatures. Obviously magic; his pendant was going crazy.
"Woah, junior." He said, pulling on the stirrups of his horse, hopping off of it.
"Evening, Gentlemen." Silas said, eyeing the one notice that was posted. It was a decent enough sum, especially for a small village such as this.
"Seeing as I've been hunting all my life... I'll take this."
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The group of children that was scurrying about in a wild storm of dust and dirt nearly made Nemael recoil into himself, gauntlet-clad hands shooting out from underneath his cloak to draw it tightly around his body. The wind they had created by chasing one another in an exuberant glee had nearly torn the thick cloth from his head, an idea that would have sent him into throes of uninhibited terror and distress. However, he had caught it in time and had seen them before the full effect of their passage could have strained him any further than it already had.
Trembling slightly, he exhaled slowly and quickly gathered and regained his composure, calming both his mind and racing heart. He would have taken nearly having his eye impaled from an accident while adventuring if it would spare him from the one thing he feared the most.
Clenching his hands into fists and then releasing them, he maneuvered around a second detachment of kids that was hellbent on disturbing every living thing around them. One of them had even thrown an idle plaything, likely crafted by a sibling or friend, at the back of his head just as he managed to reach the bounty board. He gave an exasperated sigh, twirling around in one clean movement and lifting the small doll from the dirt. Eyeing the child that had thrown it, he was exceedingly tempted to set the damn thing on fire or toss it into the shift.
Instead he did the kind thing and returned it to them, then turned his attention to the bounty board. He sidled up next to the open spot beside the german shepherd and quickly reached across him, a finger covered in steel plates pressing down against the fluttering sheet to prevent the man from taking it. He had reached the posting in time to hear that he was a hunter who intended to take the bounty for himself.
"Not yet," he murmured, his voice warm. "Everyone here has an equal interest."
He looked from one person to the next, taking note of how they all stood distinctly apart from one another. One was some sort of beast that did not come from a terran birth, if their overall appearance was anything to be judged by. The second appeared to be a unique hybrid of animal that he could not entirely place, though he could certainly guess. The last was clad head to toe in thick armor and seemed incredibly sure of himself, something he had proven with the last comment he made.
Nemael smiled thinly under his hood. To call them unique was most certainly one way to describe the lot. Idly he wondered if the one in the blue robes was currently working with the terrier.
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Khaki had left his tent on the outskirts of the village earlier that morning and made his way down to the village centre. It felt like something was going on, there were people around that day and he noticed a small group of people gathered around the town's notice board. They looked pretty experienced and some of them wore expensive armour, it wasn't everyday that people like that arrived in this town so he decided to approach them.
"You're after the bounty? Good luck with that, friends... I heard the last couple of people that took that contract never came back alive" Khaki sauntered around from behind the board, loudly chewing on a piece of meat he'd haggled from one of the merchants earlier.
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Xavier turned slightly, sizing up the canine beside him. He offered a warm smile, but the expression also revealed that the hybrid's teeth were sharp as daggers. Whether this was intentional or not, the image made the expression somewhat off-putting. "My interest in not in the money, particularly." He replied, a subtle shift of his eyes revealing that he had taken notice of the canine's tail. His eyes slid back to the male's face, still impassively friendly.
He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but was cut short as a horse drew up behind the pair. Xavier's tail gave a slow sway as he regarded the armored individual, up till now having been unmoving. What emotion this betrayed was lost on the strangers, surely. "Morning." The hybrid replied easily, his voice still casually cheery as it had been before. 'This town seems to be a nexus....' He thought to himself, noticing a hooded figure approaching from behind the mounted man. In his travels he had encountered such places before. Mundane-seeming areas that for an inexplicable reason, attracted both extraordinary people and dangerous monsters.
He took a step to the side as the newer pair of the trio of strangers both reached for the notice on the board, to which he cast a dubious look over to the terrier. "I'd leave it up there in any case, it's not like it gives us much information to go on." He dipped his head slightly to the newcomer, realizing in doing so that even in the sunlight he could not make out any details beneath the man's heavy cowl.
"As I was telling this fellow here I have very little interest in the reward so much as the creature itself." He spoke up to the armored man, his eyes tracing the lines of his sword handles, taking note of the mundane-seeming weapons. "If you're going after this Hound I'd be more than willing to lend a hand."
He was yet again stopped short as the newest of the little group stepped out from behind the board, and Xavier turned slightly to take in the newest fellow. He seemed to be the most ordinary of the group, carrying much more standard gear. His build made the hybrid briefly entertain the idea that he hadn't eaten well recently, seeming unusually thin for a creature his size. As the jackal stepped closer the hybrid visibly blanched and took a step away from him. His expression flashed a scowl, but it faded rapidly. "Keep a few feet between us, friend." he spoke up sternly, his voice having lost its friendly edge. To Xavier the jackal was probably the most dangerous of them all, though where that magic draining power was coming from he could not tell. The hybrid's paws worked down his coat, smoothing the front of it deliberately. "I'm sure we're all curious as to who took this bounty prior, and where they disappeared at? I know I do not know the area myself, and this group appears to be similarly foreign." He paused. "Are you from this village?"
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Khaki was used to the reaction of the hybrid as he and some of the others stepped back to maintain a few paces between them. It was hardly a powerful charm but he could see that they could feel the minor effect of his pendant. "Good" he thought, maybe it would keep him safe it someone turned on him. He slowly sized up the travelers in front of him. All of them seemed capable fighters and hardly looked like the sort of people that would stab you in the back for a few gold pieces. The hybrid looked like the most approachable of all of them. Stepping back to avoid having any effect on them he responded to the hybrid's question.
"No, but I've been here for a while... Over the past 2 weeks, there have been 3 or maybe 4 hunters that have taken the contract, they all went into the woods in a northerly direction looking for the beast." The jackal paused to adjust his chainmail jacket, "They all went alone and none made it out alive. I'd say you stand a better chance at slaying it traveling as a group, and... well, if you need a guide, I can help."
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In all honesty, the beast was hardly put off from the hybrid's smile, and he returned the smile with a wry one of his own – toothy and lopsided, awkward. From what he could tell, the hound sounded like something that wasn't too different from himself – perhaps an old face from his past or something similar. If it truly was as sinister as it was described, perhaps he'd be of use – it didn't hurt that he could make a little coin at the same time. It wasn't as if he had anything better to do but meander as he always had.
The bully leaned against the board, crossing his arms and watching the others with glazed interest. “I think I might be interested. To at least see what it is.” Again, his tail began to whip behind him rhythmically. “You can say I have experience with such things,” he said with a grin, gesturing to himself, “And so far as I know, more muscle's never hurt.” He craned his neck, allowing it to crack. “Might be fun to put this hound on its ass, too.”
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(Although I had not intended to bring Dragonhawk into this fully, since he is the one you described Khaki I'll write up a quick addition so it all flows together).
Nemael spied the approach of yet another and subtly shifted closer to the hunter and his horse. Although he was acutely aware of the sensation of his magic being pulled, as though being drained from both him and the air that surrounded them, his discomfort came from a different source. More of an ethereal concept than one grounded in reality, he forcefully shoved these thoughts into the back of his mind and angled himself towards the hybrid. It was then the massive creature built of muscle and sharp teeth cracked his neck, earning a visible shudder from Nemael that even made his wings rustle. The sound of popping joints and bones would forever disturb his waking life.
Shaking his head, he examined the others a bit more closely. When he first spied them he had thought very little of the rapidly growing group and instead written them off as competition, albeit for a bounty he held a vague interest in. Now that each had spoken and the jackal materialized from behind the board, he was now unsure whether it was a simple stroke of luck that they had each been drawn to the village or some form of divine fate, the latter a possibility he held little interest in but was willing to give its due.
Exhaling through his nose, he bowed his head toward the terrier and took note of the abnormal tail that whipped behind him. Nemael's eyes narrowed at the first thought that came into his mind, both curious and hopeful that this beast came from where he imagined. Perhaps he could give him better information to work off of when it came to understanding the Shift.
His curiosity was piqued.
Flashing a small grin from beneath his cowl, he nearly leapt from his skin when a large, clawed hand suddenly landed on his shoulder. Although he had not forgotten that his companion existed, he had momentarily lost track of time.
Now standing beside Nemael was the behemoth of a creature, Dragonhawk, a massive grin masking what remained of his muzzle as he stared down at the jackal. A soft chuckle rumbled deep in his throat when Nemael had visibly jumped from his physical contact and proximity. "If I may ask, were these hunters solely based around one school of melee and/or magic, or were they an even mixture of the two?" He paused and cocked his head to the right, the glow in his eye sockets drifting ever so slightly toward the left as he noticed the few that stood opposite his friend. "If you could tell at the very least."
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Drake was walking into the small town with his cowl over his head. generally he would have enjoyed a day like today it was warm with i nice breeze in the air making the journey comfortable. But he wasn't. He was following the trail of the group who demolished his home giving him a laser like focus. As he was walking he hefted his coin pouch to see if he needed to make some money. It was fairly light. With a sigh he placed it into his pocket and looked around a bit realizing he finally made it. As he looked around he noticed the gathering by the bounty board imagining that tgere was still quite a few jobs left. As he walked closer he could feel a slight drain in the mana that was in the air. He wasn't particularly worried about it though with luck he could grab a job and leave. He pulled up to the group and took a look at the board noticing the single job on it. With a quiet sight he relaxed his shoulders well it looks like that he would have to work with someone.
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The jackal recoiled slightly as his eyes came across the tall being standing in front of him, It would have to at least be 8 feet with a skull in place of it's head. He'd never seen anything like it before. after a few moments of rather awkward silence khaki came to his senses and replied to the question.
"It's difficult to tell really" Khaki responded, scratching himself behind his ear "One of them, a large white wolf, looked like he was the most powerful, you could feel the magic coming of him... The other ones were more like trained warriors, good with spears and swords but not spells, I hope that helps"
The jackal quickly turned his attention to another newcomer who approached the group, he had a look of fiery determination in his eyes, even with his relaxed appearance. For a second he almost extended his hand in greeting but quickly withdrew it, as he remembered that simple contact between him and magic users could possibly drain small amounts of magic from them.
"Greetings traveller... we're putting a team together to hunt a monster, care to join us?"
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The shepherd was tense. Not because of the magic users and monsters before him., but purely because the amount of people, crowded around the notice board. He generally avoided going on a contract with others. Most of the group contracts had ended in fights over who gets what share of payment, and, if they ended up becoming violent, Silas usually ended up killing a man or two. Decent men, from what Silas could tell. While he didn't shy away from killing people, he didn't much like it.
He didn't give off any noticeable visual signs, merely taking a step back, towards the jackal. His pendant seemed to calm down as he did so, which likely meant that said jackal likely had some sort of magic draining gear or abilities. Which he could use to his advantage, if this turned into a fight.
"Anyways... Since they have a notice there, and it calls it a 'hound' It's quite likely someone saw the thing. Which means that we should ask around. There's always no harm in knowing what we're going up against."
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Xavier maintained his position as everyone gathered around, occasionally shifting a step or two to allow people some room around the board. After the Jackal responded to his inquiry he dipped his head slightly, but otherwise just listened to the rest of the group. His ears turned slightly to pick out each individual voice, a smile creeping onto his muzzle as the gathered individuals seemed to be moving towards a group effort. That would make this easy, based on the look of things.
As the armored canine spoke up, Xavier clapped his hands together, the webbed digits making the singular action quite loud. Even this fellow, who seemed the most reluctant of the group, had used the word 'We.'
"It seems that we are all in agreement to work together then?" He asked to the group at large, hoping that the sudden clap had garnered enough attention from the others to make them listen for a moment. He paused to make sure, then smiled and continued, his eyes landing on the newest additions to the group. "For this particular venture, I vote our jackal friend here take the lead, as he appears to be the most in the know with both the terrain and our prey..." He said that last work with a bit of a wry grin. "The reward money will be split evenly among those that are interested, to prevent any quarrels about that."
He looked around the group to see if there were any objections to that last bit, then gave a nod. "For now I believe it wise for us to find out what we can about this monster. We shall meet back here at mid-day and share our findings...?" He said that last bit as if it were a statement, only adding a slight inflection at the end as he looked around, unsure if all those gathered would be so amiable to working as a group. Xavier, for one, was quite pleased with the arrangement. He was used to working in groups, and found having other competent fighters around in a battle often covered for his own weaknesses.
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Drake gave a sideways glance to the jackal that raised his hand for a handshake, noting the he quickly withdrew it. So he must be the one with the powerful anti mana trinket. Drake gave a silent nod tp him to show he acknowledged him.
He then heard the living fashion disaster speak and looked at the reward. 500 silver... split up with these five others make it a uneven split but he did need the money. "Sounds fair to me." He said as he looked at all of the faces. Well if they didn't tear each other apart this could be at least interesting.
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"Very well, we meet at mid-day. I'll skirt the edges of the forest and see if i can pick up any tracks heading into the forest" Khaki said, yanking the string back on his crossbow with sharp pull. he loaded a steel-tipped bolt into the weapon and started walking towards the forest. It wasn't a far walk to the treeline, but when he began walking amongst the tall, gnarled trees he suddenly felt colder and vulnerable, as if a sudden icy wind blew straight through his bones.
It had obviously rained since the Hound's last victim ventured into the forest, so Khaki could only smell the faintest scent and could only find a very shallow set of footprints that led into the forest. Against better judgement, he decided to follow the tracks for about a hundred paces to see if they could use the trail as a guide.
The forest gradually got darker as he walked further, and his vision was reduced by a heavy fog that had settled through the forest. A long howl echoed in the distance, piercing the silence like a sharp dagger. It sounded different from a dog's howl, or even a wolf's howl, it was longer, louder and like nothing the Jackal had ever heard before. It seemed to echo around him, making it almost impossible to tell which direction the beast was in.
"I don't stand a chance here alone...it could be anywhere" Khaki thought aloud as he raised his cross bow and checked for movement in each direction.
On the verge, he quickly carved a notch into the tree as a marker and raced back to the village as quickly as his legs could carry him to report to the others
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The bully gave a nod to each speaker, not really having anything to add. It was as good as any other plan he'd suggest. He wasn't entirely keen on working in a group, but given most of them seemed to have their wits about them, he was willing to give it a chance. Even still if it came right down to it, he was rather confident he could handle anything thrown at him being what he was... Or perhaps it was merely his stubbornness that made him feel overconfident. Those triangular eyes of his gave a final scan of the group he was working with, taking note of their most distinguishing features for his own information – at the very least, so he could identify each of them when they returned at midday.
Lacing his fingers he turned his palms outward and stretched, cracking his knuckles in the process with an overplayed yawn as if to indicate that there had been enough talking. “Probably wise to tell where you're going so we don't cover the same ground, too. I'll hit the tavern and see what I can dredge up.” He announced with a grin. He'd be sure to get a drink while he was at it. “If you're coming with me, then come, otherwise I'll see the lot o' you at midday. I expect we can give warm introductions after we share our findings,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
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The shepherd listened to the others speak, grumbling some small complaint as he walked away. He decided that he would check out the forest. If the other people were going to be roving around the town... Well, he would prefer to be away from them. Besides, he was a good tracker, not a people person.
He followed the Arbalist, noting that he was likely a competent tracker as well. But, he quickly decided to split off from him, citing the reason that they would cover more ground that way. He turned, heading into the forest at a different direction than him.
After a bit of wandering, and following what might have been beast tracks (But turned out to be nothing but a regular wolf's), he heard an ear piercing howl. He could tell right off the bat that it was no beast he knew, it was too long and loud for a dog or wolf. It didn't have that hint of a scream like a werewolf would, either... so it was no beast he knew. Which meant that it was likely an alchemical construct.
He drew his silver sword, carefully watching his step so that he made no noise, and left minimal tracks. After following the sound for a moment, he came across a section of ruined forest; like something had charged through it. Something big... and recently, judging from the fact that some leaves were still settling.
He knelt down, taking a good look at the tracks below him. He could spot... six distinct sets of footprints, which meant that this thing likely has six legs. And, judging from the depth of the footprints (Though he had already assumed this, due to the carnage it had caused), it was quite heavy. He cocked his head as he realized that the beast had no claws. At least where a beast would normally have claws.
Also... Silas noticed something... off about one of the leaves. He picked it up, bringing it close. There was a smallish hole on the edge of it. It was slightly brown around its edge, and judging from the fact that it seemed like it's edges were more rounded; softer (for lack of a better word) than a small animal eating it, there was a quite high chance that acid had caused that burn... which meant this thing had some sort of acidic power, possibly either in its saliva or from a separate gland that created it in order to store it for some sort of acidic attack.
He looked up from the ground, standing up and surveying the trees around him. He saw no tufts of fur, which likely meant that this beast had no fur. Could mean that it had tough armor, but such could be expected from an Alchemical, or supernatural construct. He also noticed two small holes in a tree, as if it had tried to attack whatever it was chasing, and missed. Judging from their size and depth, they were stabbed into that tree.
He stood, deciding that he would head back to the village with the information he had gathered. As much as he hated to admit it, this beast would be tough to kill on his own... he would need help.
He kept examining the tracks as he left, noticing something odd. It was as if several smaller tracks converged in the mass of destroyed trees... Silas knelt back down, looking closely at them. They looked almost exactly like the large beast's did, except they were smaller... Which meant this thing had minions, houndlings of some sort.
Silas let out a low growl, speeding up his pace just a little bit. He had collected some quite useful information.
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Although curiosity was an intense temptation that nearly drove him into asking a few questions of both the terrier and the flamboyant hybrid, he set his jaw and refrained from uttering a single word. Dragonhawk had already asked the question that had been on his mind and the jackal had swiftly sated their desire for information. Thus when everyone broke apart to go their respective ways, he turned around to his friend and peered up into the hollow sockets of his eyes, head tilted ever so slightly with an unspoken query. This action was met with a small roll of the shoulder and Nemael exhaled loudly, tension bleeding away from his posture. The fabric around his muzzle creased ever so slightly as his lips turned into a wry grin, the subtle lines of bared and notably sharp teeth catching the threads.
"You already know."
Dragonhawk shifted from one foot to the other and snorted, the glowing spheres that now composed his eyes rotating as he rolled them. "I 'already know' what you plan on doin' and what you want me to go about." Again he shrugged his shoulders. "I am well aware of how important this is to you. Just holler if you need me, yeah?"
Nemael bowed his head in agreement, then suddenly reached forward and wrapped his arms around Dragonhawk's waist in a tight embrace. However, as suddenly as it occurred he was already moving away and towards the village at a fair pace, head held low. When he chanced a look back over his shoulder, he noted that his friend had already gone to do as they had agreed prior. This would leave Nemael alone to help with the beast of this village and explore more of the world on his own when this little monster party inevitably broke apart after the hunt. It was something he was greatly looking forward to, seeing that he held little regard for large groups of hunters more than capable of fending for their own skin. If they had been in over their heads or at least less confident in their skills, he would have bore more interest in the entirety of the proceedings. After all, he was here to help those who did not know their way in the world; not people who had lived their lives long enough to have a course already chartered.
Moving through the village with a practiced and swift gait, he subconsciously tugged at his gauntlets and then ran a hand over the semi-jagged metal set similarly to bladed scales. Noticeably his shoulders fell somewhat as his muscles relaxed, the tendons in his neck no longer straining against the fabric. This seemingly routine gesture was a nervous habit that he had yet to entirely break, one that always worked to comfort him in the hours before a hunt was to begin.
Wandering for a period of time, he finally spotted a person he knew would have information about the beast. Whether it was idle gossip or the truth would be in the air and would require verification from the hunter and jackal. Until then, however, he sidled up to them; apparently in their blind spot. Reaching out, he tapped their shoulder gently, having no wish to accidentally tear their shirt with the claw tips of his gauntlets. Instead of startling as he expected, they simply turned around and looked him up and down. Nemael could see their disapproval, even as they attempted to hide it.
"Apothecary." It was a statement, not a question.
They grunted in response and waved for him to continue.
"Survivors?"
Their expression subtly shifted from stern to apologetic. He wondered if they thought he was going to die like the others that had been hunting for the creature or if one of their own had perished hunting the beast.
"Yes... there was one." He paused and looked up at Nemael, brows furrowed. "Young lad; rather typical boy. Was out in the forest against the admonitions of his greaters. Either incredibly lucky or bloody stupid, he wound up against a tree. Minor sprains, small cuts to his face and head, sore back, but alive."
Nemael's brows furrowed, shadowing out what little could be seen of his eyes. "The hound?"
The man gave him a sidelong glance before continuing. "The boy said it was a great beast, with teeth the length of his arm and acid that dripped from its fangs." He chuckled softly. "'Course, he always had a bit of a, ah, imagination. Wouldn't trust a word to come out of his mouth."
Looking the apothecary in the eye, he tried to ascertain whether they were attempting to prevent him from finding the sole survivor or if the kid truly did have a wild imagination prone to invention. "Pretend he is a reliable source. What did he say?"
The apothecary scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning ever so slightly back. He glanced off to the left before returning with an even gaze.
"If the boy was right, and I'm not about to go shoutin' it from the hills that he may be, but if he was?" The corner of Nemael's lip twitched, wings rustling against his back as he waited.
"If'n the lad was right, this damned beast is a nightmare risen from Hell itself." He spat on the ground, making his gaunt cheeks even shallower with the action. "No fur, little cretins that follow it 'round the bloody woods--was a surprise they didn't tear the kid apart--acid drooling from its maw, large enough to put our village to shame." His lips twisted into a scowl. "If you think you can kill this thing, by all means, be free to throw yourself into its jaws."
From pleasant to snide, Nemael was taken aback by the sudden change in the apothecary's disposition. Taking a cautious step back, he lifted a hand and waved once. "Thank you." Then he turned around and began the journey back to the bounty board. He hadn't expected this man to be so far away from the center of the village, but he considered the information to be helpful never the less. However, what was more telling to him was how the man rapidly degraded from a terse calm into a countenance that suited the saltiest of Magisters and Tradesmen. The idea that the man knew far more than he said was blatantly obvious, though was it due to fear of what may happen if more adventurers were fed to the thing? Or did he know something far more sinister and was doing his best to hide it?
Was everyone in the village going to treat them like this? If so, why would they have put the bounty up in the first place? His eyes narrowed to mere slits as he considered the possibilities, trying to make sense of all of the information that was flagrantly conflicting with itself.
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Xavier stood at the board while the others went their separate ways, moving a little ways away from the cloaked figure and his monstrous companion, though not so far that he missed the embrace. That did bring some questions to mind, but none that he was keen on asking the stranger.
Two of the group headed for the woods immediately, and examining the way they moved Xavier had no doubts that they would find what they were looking for... whether that be to their detriment or not. He left them to it, rubbing his chin with a webbed paw as he considered his own course of action. He was far from his home, this land entirely unfamiliar to him, and with both competent trackers and a host of people scouring the town for information, he doubted either of those courses would yield much beyond what would be gathered without his assistance. His specialty was ancient ruins and magical items. Monster hunting was nothing new to him, but this time he was far outclassed by others in that regard.
With a small chuckle to himself and a shrug he walked off towards the market that was still in the process of setting up for the day. If nothing else, he could buy some traveling supplies for everyone, and cook a meal for lunch! He had also misplaced his knife in a skirmish a few weeks ago, and needed to find a replacement blade to carry.
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Drake gave a slight nod understanding the idea of searching for information. Because there was so many people searching for information he wasn't too worried. So he went to the market place to replenish his mana potion supply, and to listen to gossip.
When he inevitably returned he sighed because he didn't find any useful information. The gossip was everywhere and none of it was about the monster they were hunting.
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[Before things slow down in the thread, we'll go ahead and skip to mid-day ^^]
The sun was high in the sky as the first of the rag-tag group returned to the meeting spot. The vibrantly-dressed hybrid had arrived fairly early so that he could dish out the food he had bought for the group. It wasn't much, just some cheese, bread, and a hearty stew in wooden bowls. Several people had given him odd looks, though whether it was due to his appearance or the fact that he had started a small cooking fire near the center of the village he was not quite sure. Nobody had insisted he put it out, however, so there he remained.
Xavier's thoughts wandered to places far away in the hour or so he sat waiting, past adventures and old friends. This was far from his first rodeo as far as impromptu parties were concerned, but this may be the least stable of the bunch. Very few of those gathered appeared to be quite as content as he was to join forces, and he suspected most had plans in place should chaos break out. Getting them to cooperate in a combat scenario may be a bit tricky...
As the others began arriving he would be found sitting rather casually on the ground, breaking off sizable chunks of the fresh bread and slowly chewing them down to crumbs, staring up at the clouds drifting past.
-
Drake came back seeing the vivid man by the board. It wasn't that hard to spot him either way with his bright colours. Drake got a bit closer and sat down close to him. "Find anything?" He asked as he pulled out his tome. The thing was large at least three hundred pages with a silver embroidering on the the cover. Drake flipped somewhere near the middle and pulled out a blank tome with a few scribblings on the first few pages. After pulling out a self inking quill he started to write things in the blank tome. He was trying to decipher this tome so he could use the spells locked inside. He already has a whole blank tome full with the first half the the tome.
-
"It's definitely out there." Khaki explained breathlessly as he jogged over and stopped to catch his breath. "I found a trail, but it's a bit washed out with the rain and the scent is a bit stale, but I'd say it should lead us right to the creature"
The jackal crouched down by the board to rest for a few moments before he eagerly accepted a bowl of stew from the hybrid and devoured it quickly, grateful for the hot meal. He looked behind him and checked to see if any other members of their group were approaching.
-
Noting that two people had made their way back to the 'camp' before he did, Nemael slowly wound his way around them and dropped to the ground with a sigh and the clink of metal. He leaned against one of the legs of the bounty board, seated opposite of the jackal. Carefully adjusting his wings so that the smooth wood rested in between them, he shuffled in place so that he may be comfortable.
When food was offered by the hybrid he refused the meal, but gave a non-committal grunt of thanks. "Apothecary took care of a survivor," he started suddenly. His gaze slid between each person before settling on the fire. "Said the kid only had a few scratches and a sprain from a tumble. Didn't mention why it ignored him."
He shook his head slowly and lifted his right leg, resting his arm across it as he thought back to their conversation. "He became incredibly defensive when I asked what the kid told him about the creature. At first he wouldn't tell me a thing, purely on the basis that the boy had a 'wild imagination'. When I inquired further, I suspect he wanted to spit on me, but wisely chose the ground instead." Nemael chuckled softly at the thought. If the apothecary had taken that route, he would not have necessarily blamed him. "Finally opened up and said that it had massive teeth, drooled acid, a posse of smaller minions, no fur and was massive enough to put this village to shame. Then he told me I was free to throw myself into the hounds jaws if I thought I was capable of killing it."
Slowly his eyes drifted to the right as he stared at the spot he had entered the village from. "You would think out of every person here an apothecary would want the hound dead more than most. It must be tiring gathering so many herbs and plants and paying for what he cannot find. Especially considering their latest addition." Nemael ran his fingers across his gauntlet as he thought. "Of course he may just be tired of the fact that everyone who has gone hunting for it has died. Losing hope as it were. Although I do admit I am still curious as to why he wrote me off so quickly."
Grinning, he laughed quietly at an inner joke and then looked to the jackal. "You said you have resided in this village for a time. Is the apothecary normally so abrasive?" He cocked his head to the right, lips quirked into a sly smirk that distorted the fabric.
-
The secondary and very ornate jackal grumbled lowly as he entered the village square.. He wasn't a local to this village, although he was definitely a part of a neighboring city. Neighboring being quite a distance away, but he took pleasure in roaming. While doing a bit of shopping, mostly for food. He approached a stall, quickly completed a transaction for some soup and bread. While sitting on a bench in the plaza, he noticed quite a peculiar group of people near what looked to be a display board. He watched from afar as they gathered, having their own food and sitting around. His ears moved slightly as he listened to their conversation. A hound, and massive teeth. Slowly he approached, keeping quiet and observing the circle. Before the jackal spoke, he waited for a gap between the speech; taking in the flow of magical energy amongst the crowd. His ears twitched, as he looked and saw that all but a few were mages.
"People tend to be abrasive when approached by masked figures, especially strangers." He spoke a bit brashly, before looking to the group. "My name is Camille Aelius. I am a magic user and I wish to also take down this.. Animal, with you all." He spoke clearly, humming softly.
His only thought was that such a strong creature would definitely be packing quite a bit of life force; something he could use to further his.. Practice.
EDIT: (My bad; I was multi tasking when righting, I messed up the font size)
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(Uhm... that is tiny. It must be at least three pixels tall.)
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Khaki moved aside to make room for the newcomer and gestured for him to sit down, but he made no comment to the mage. Instead he turned his attention to Nemeal.
"The apothecary?" Khaki asked, pausing for a few moments to think. "More or less, He treats all outsiders the same way. He's a strange fellow that one... always looks like he's hiding something from you."
-
Xavier dipped his head slightly to the newcomer, but likewise did not speak to him, engaged as they were in talk about the suspicious apothecary. He pondered the information. "Could be that he is making more than he is spending and doesn't want to lose his business. A foolish notion given that most have simply died and not returned with any injuries.... and I'm sure losing access to a large portion of the wilderness is probably taxing on his supplies, as you said."
As he spoke he ladled out another bowl of stew and held it out to the newcomer, offering a subtle smile as he did. "Greetings, friend. Glad to have your help. We may need it." He conceded. "Initially I thought this was a simple monster but it sounds like we may have quite a battle on our hands."
His attention turned to Nemael. "As for this apothecary, I don't trust anyone acting suspiciously with such dire events occurring near their home. I vote we pay him a visit after we take care of the monster... see if he changes his tune." The hybrid did not need to add that if he was still hostile then something certainly was amiss. "Information is valuable."
"And on that note..." He chimed, looking at the other two now. "While we wait for the others, how about some proper introductions?" He placed his paw on his chest, webbed fingers splayed across his fur in a gesture of sincerity, or perhaps self-indication. "I am Xavier Akafur, Captain of the Stormrider. I am a treasure hunter and merchant by trade, though I generally handle acquisitions more-so than sales." He flashed a small smile to the group, ears perking as he waited for the others to respond in kind.
-
Drake was listening to the whole conversation taking mental notes of important things that were brought up in the conversation. When the introductions rose up he waited for Xavier to finish then then closed his book gently memorizing the page he was on. "my name is Drake." He then placed his book back in the satchel to eat. "Wandering spell crafter. My home has burned so i can't hail from anywhere." He said rather matter-of-factly. He took up the bowl that was offered to him earlier and took his first slurp straight from the bowl. It was actually pretty good for a free meal.
-
Midday came for the bully, but alas he found himself moving from the tavern a little later than expected. He only hoped that the group had not taken action without him. Perhaps he should have held off on a few drinks – at least then he could properly remember to step outside every now and then to keep track of the sun. Still, he made his way to the board all the same, hoping he wasn't too late.
A confident smirk held his features when he spotted what looked to be a little pow wow in front of the message board, complete with a fire and familiar figures. “And here I thought I was going to be left behind,” he blustered, giving a small laugh upon approach, “When in fact I'm greeted with a small camp. You know there's a perfectly good inn not too far from here. Or even the tavern.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate, “I'm sure they wouldn't o' minded us pulling up a table to discuss what we're gonna do about their little dog problem... But who am I to judge, eh? We're all in the same place, that's all the matters.” The hellion clapped his hands together, rubbing them conspiratorially. He hardly seemed aware of the current conversation, or rather, he didn't care as he moved into the circle of men, making himself welcome.
“Unfortunately, a lot of what I heard at the tavern was just as you'd expect. A lot of gossip. Hardly any of it useful, all of it describing how scary the creature is. Who knows what's true and what's been added as it's been passed along.” The dog gave an unamused snort, waving his hand dismissively – not that he'd expected any less – the tavern had merely been a way for him to pass the time until it was time to meet again. His specialty would be when it was time to face the creature head on.
-
After Silas had found all he could, he didn't head back to the village. Instead, he found a nice, quiet place to rest out in the forest, and did so, until about an hour or so before midday. He had done this many, many times before, having waited a full twenty-four hours and some change. He remembers one time, a guard to some fort had refused to let him in, until he had seen the sun shine on his face. to which Silas told him about Noonwraiths (Ghostly creatures, typically ones that died Violent deaths right before their weddings. They haunt the local fields, and are the reason peasants stop work at midday, not, as one would expect, to get out of the sun.), to which the guard balked at letting him in at all. Silas grunted, shrugging his shoulders as he walked away. There was a monster nest nearby... But it was their problem, not his.
The Alsatian stood, dusting off his armored trousers as he headed back to the village. He found the little camp by the notice board, clearing his throat to get everyone's attention.
"Right..." he said "I found some tracks, in a destroyed section of the forest. Thing had barged through there, and recently. at least, at about the time I had headed there."
The Alsatian shifted onto one foot, shaking off a small animal that had crawled up his leg
"Anwyways, this thing is huge. Big and heavy, with six legs. Has some sort of acid power, or at the very least, drools acid. It also had some smaller creatures, judging from the tracks I found."
"Thing had no claws either, which struck me as odd. However, I found two holes next to each other in a tree, which also means that this thing probably has stingers of some sort."
The shepherd sat, finally finished with sharing his information. He took a bowl of food, shoveling it into his mouth. It wasn't half bad, honestly. Especially for something he got for free.
-
Nemael began to relax when the hunter and bull of a creature returned, each settling down around the fire and taking some of the proffered food, consuming it quickly. He actually laughed, the sound coming from deep within his chest as each ate as though they had never been fed once in their lives. However, when the offer of names and origins began to crop up, every muscle in his body grew tense and his shoulders subtly rose. Even the welcome and addition of the one who called himself Camille had not brought on such a mood, instead only garnering a brief nod of agreement when he snidely remarked about masked strangers.
Swallowing hard and shuffling in place, he attempted to look as though he were merely getting comfortable again. While he moved around, he nibbled his lower lip and quickly glanced from one person to the next. Indeed they were certainly well-worn travelers, but the likelihood of them having known of where he came from was minuscule. The only threat to this that he could perceive was the hunter and Xavier, however...
No. Clearing his throat, he forced his body to relax and re-checked the minor magic that concealed any features that could never have been hidden beneath the layers of armor he wore. Once satisfied, his eyes rested on the fire as he spoke. "Nemael." Quickly he looked from the flames to the terrier and hunter. "I received similar information from an apothecary. He had tended to a survivor. As for the rumors in the tavern... What exactly did they say?" Though the shot was long, he knew there was a possibility of new information to be gained from the people he had spoken to. All they would need to do was correlate it with what they already knew to figure out whether or not it was possible.
-
Camille looked upon the ragtag group; ears twitching as two introduced themselves, and the rest didn't follow. His gaze kept returning to Namael. Pure curiosity; only heightening at his uncomfortable gestures. Then looking back to the group, he listened to the conversations about the hound. Being mostly oblivious and one of the younger members of the camp; he waited and listened. He gathered that the hound seemed to be the leader of a pack, based on what the dog had said.
His tail swayed behind him, and he eventually sat down; legs crossed and hands within his lap. In a break of the conversation; he looked to the group and then Namael and quietly spoke what he thought of the situation.
"It sounds as if the hound is actually a leader of a pack. And that the apothecary is rather... Suspicious, to you?" He mused; tail flailing as he looked back to Xander, returning to his silence. His ears twitched as he continued to watch the gestures of the team, although keeping a quiet smile.
The talk of backgrounds felt as if he didn't need to say anything, and he didn't really want to. Daddy's benefactor and political manipulation weren't exactly things the jackal wanted people to know, and in the event someone with malicious intent heard it, it would become a problem. Even though his clothes made him look as he was, it was better if he wasn't tied to anything.
-
"Welcome back." Xavier spoke to the returning individuals once they had all gathered around the small cooking fire he had made. "I do believe that's everyone." He added after taking quick inventory of those returning.
"For those of you that missed it, I'm Xavier." He motioned to the others. "Drake, Nemael..." He said, nodding to each man in turn. "The rest of the introductions can be made while we move. From the sound of things we don't have terribly far to travel, but I think we've gathered all the information we're going to get on short notice. Personally I would rather kill this thing before it attacks anyone else." He said, standing up and dusting off his overcoat. "Grab a bowl of food for the road if you wish." He added for those that arrived a little late.
"Also, if none of you mind, in addition to your names it would be beneficial to know what kind of combat you prefer. It can be as simple as close or long range, I would just like to know who needs to be where to be most effective when we find this thing." He motioned to the Jackal with the crossbow. "For instance I would assume our friend here would prefer to be back a good distance, as I don't see any obvious way to defend himself in close quarters."
He motioned for the two obvious trackers in the group to lead the way. "If you don't mind, gentlemen. I think we all trust your navigation." He quipped, smiling warmly to each in turn. This expression faded slowly as they (hopefully) moved ahead, and he turned to the larger portion of the group. "As for myself I am more suited to close and medium range combat. I have offensive magic, but it loses potency over distances. I would prefer to work defensively for our back line, and make sure those of you without armor are protected." He spoke loudly enough for the two trackers to hear, as well as some villagers nearby who turned their heads inquisitively as the sudden noise.
He looked pointedly at Nemael and the newcomer. "Share as much as you are comfortable with...." Clearly he had not missed the former's discomfort, and the latter's lack of introduction.
-
Drake listened carefully to whatever information was delivered about the beast they were hunting. He sat quietly sipping away at the stew and when he finished he slid the bowl back at this time jis name was mentioned to the people who returned. As he heard it he simply raised his free hand for a quick hello. One he was satisfied with the placement he stood up and looked around his area where he sat making sure he didn't forget anything which he did he forgot his manuscript. He picked it up and followed the group as he mentioned his skill set. "I'm a mage if you couldn't tell and i can fill any role that is needed but i prefer mid to long combat. As for when i fight mages i prefer to be up close-and-personal with anti magic." He said soon after slipped his blank tome in his satchel.
-
Khaki introduced himself as such and lifted himself up from the ground into a kneeling position. He closed his eyes and began whispering the words of a prayer in his mother's language. The prayer was a relic of the past, but tradition was tradition and it brought him comfort before every fight.
Once it was over, he paused and withdrew a large strip of cloth from his bag and carefully wrapped it around his head. It was a prayer flag, delicately embroidered with many passages and hymns. He fastened it so that only his eyes and ears were exposed, leaving a thin slit through which he could see. According to his mother's family it would keep him safe in every fight. it seemed to have worked so far.
Finally ready, he stood up and walked over to the front section of the group, stopping next to the Alsatian.
"I'll stay close behind you, There's less chance that the monster will notice us that way... Well, good luck to you, friend. May the spirits protect us and lead our hands to victory!"
-
Camille nodded to Xavier; the jackal listening slightly. While he followed the group, he listened to the various abilities of the other people and bit his lip while thinking of the way to properly explain himself. He made sure not to fall to the back; walking in the middle of the group. While he didn't feel a sudden surge of power; the jackal felt linked to the life force around him through alliance. As they spoke on positions, he waited patiently before speaking.
"I need to be in the middle of you guys to be strongest, unless we are extremely outnumbered. My offensive abilities are also better used upclose or in the middle. Provided you guys hurt or kill, I can heal. But, uh..." He stopped a bit, looking away in a fit of embarrassment. "My magic doesn't work so well if actual undead are around. Just a warning, of sorts."
He relaxed his standing while they walked; the shift in his position made his beads click against each other very slightly. At first it was a bit pleasant, but then annoying to hear. He stood more upright; making the clanking stop and soothing his patience as he watched either sides of their walk.
-
The canine gave a nod to the hybrid, at the very least acknowledging his greeting before turning to Nemael with a curious expression, “Nothing we don't already know, judging by what's been shared.” He crossed his arms, his face reflecting his dissatisfaction with his findings, “Just that it's toothy, nasty, and has killed a lot of people. You'd think it was an attraction of this town with the way people whispered about it. Some people don't think it's alone, but that's about the only thing I can figure might be useful. Wonder what they plan to do when it's dead, I wonder...” Again, his tail whipped about – either out of irritation or the need to fidget while thinking – it was hard to tell as he stood there. Even with his smaller stature, it seemed as if he could cut an imposing figure under the right circumstances.
It wasn't until the others began to move that he did so himself, walking near the front of the group, though not ahead of their trackers. As each member of the party spoke, the bully took the time to at least give a side glance to who was speaking, that white eye of his perhaps coming off as unnerving with how fixated its gaze was. When he was able to, he made his introduction. “Call me Mort. Or if you're feeling flowery, Mortimus Maximus.” He cracked a small smirk at the notion, speaking his full name in a sardonically posh manner. “I prefer getting up close and personal with whatever I'm fighting. I can dish out heavy hits and take a few, too.”
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(Dammit. I accidentally removed my post instead of hitting 'modify'. Well, at least it can go a little more smoothly this time.)
Listening to the bull terrier closely, Nemael huffed out a breath that briefly stretched the fabric covering his face. "At least there is a commonality to the rumors. As for what they plan to do with the hound once it is gone... I am a mite suspicious about their intentions." For the briefest of moments, a scowl distorted the cloth. "First the apothecary and now these people treating it almost with reverence." He paused. "I wonder if they ever intended for it to be killed?"
The thought that occurred to him after his comment caused a low snarl to emit from his chest, one that he had been incapable of restraining but had still bitten back as best he could. However, he had no intention of voicing the thought and rose with the rest of the group. Following, he maintained a decent distance between himself and the party, stalking along the outer edges nearest the trackers. He gave Xavier a sidelong glance when he asked about where they felt most comfortable during combat. "I can be either melee or ranged. However, I can also aid in retreats, evasive maneuvers or getting the jump on threats through the usage of rifts." He considered his next words. "Or lure demons and spirits alike to the battlefield, though I have no control over them."
Stretching his arms over his head, his wings flared out and trembled softly. Bringing both back down and in, he only then decided to glance back to make sure no one was too close. At the same time he managed to see Khaki slipping some sort of cloth over his skull while he murmured under breath. Curiosity flared and his initial intention to ask nothing backfired. "What is that for?"
-
Khaki turned around as soon as the question was asked. The cloth was tight and somewhat muffled his voice slightly but it felt warm and had little impact of his visibility.
"It's too keep me safe... It is a prayer flag, inscribed with passages and prayers of a old language and an even older religion, my ancestors used to wear them before going into battle. It shows that our cause is just and noble and deserves the support of the spirits... whether you believe that is up to you, but i like to think that it has helped me survive this long."
Khaki paused for a few moments and withdrew a small vial of poison and let a single drop fall onto the tip of his steel arrow and let it dry.
"what do you think? do you believe that we'll make it?"
-
As they walked Xavier's expression shifted to a more neutral one, his ears perked as he attentively listened to everyone share a small bit about their combat abilities. Thus far it seemed as though they may be a bit heavy on the back line, with only himself and Mort to take the front. However, the armored man out in the lead had yet to speak up, and based on his gear he was likely to prefer close combat.
"I think we'll manage." He chimed in after they had been walking for some time. The treeline loomed just a few yards ahead of them, and Xavier scanned the edge of the forest dubiously, as if he expected the beast to jump out of the trees right then and there. He turned to Mort, flashing a smile. "I think you're going to have a lot of projectiles flying over your shoulders, so just keep that in mind. I'll likely be back here trying to keep enemies off of the mages and archers, but just yell if you need me up front." He winked and raised a paw, clenching his fingers into a fist. His paw sparked to life with an unnatural flame for a moment, flickering orange under the shade of the trees, as if he had lit himself on fire. The magic faded just as quickly as it had appeared, and the hybrid let his paw drop back down to his side. "I'd like to get a few hits in on the big one, for good measure."
His attention shifted up front. "How far out here did you find the tracks?" He asked.
-
From the composition of Silas' gear, from his heavy armor to the two swords on his back, it was quite obvious what sort of position in the line he would prefer. Plus, if they knew anything about Vorsords, they would know that each and every one of them are some of the most skilled swordsmen in the land. Once the man with the colorful clothes spoke directly to him, the Vorsord simply let out a grunt
"Not too far." He said, deciding that now would be a good time as ever to draw his sword, pulling the silver thing out of its sheath with a metal on metal hiss. The Masterfully crafted blade also had smallish runes along the fuller, which gave off a faint, orange glow. They were Dazhborg runes each of them gave the Vorsord a small chance to set anything he cut on fire, for a short duration. True, it wasn't the hottest of fires, but a fire was a fire, and it burned things.
Soon enough, they came upon the section of ruined forest that Silas had seen earlier. Destroyed was the best word the Vorsord had for it; stumps of trees everywhere, fallen logs, and huge pawprints at somewhat irregular intervals.
-
Nemael smiled thinly as Khaki gave his explanation. "Through my experiences with... them, I am inclined to say it is likely. That and skill on your part." Turning his gaze away from the jackal, he unerringly stared forward as they continued to walk, the question posited by Khaki heard but never responded to. His mind had shifted gears, no longer resting in the present moment. Instead it grappled with the past and his experiences with what the Kuar had always called the Shift. He considered the entities he had seen in the realm and how they presented themselves there, then how they appeared as vastly different creatures once they stepped into the Ereworld. Although his response came out as positive reinforcement, what he truly felt about the spirits that resided there was anything but kind.
Swallowing hard, he snapped back to reality when the hunter finally spoke and the environment changed. Here they were no longer within the shadowed beauty of the woods. Instead they were greeted by pure devastation, the ruins of trees faintly crunching underfoot and massive prints nearly swallowing anyone who stumbled into them. Glancing away from the ruin, he couldn't help the minuscule grin that came to his lips. Delight danced on the tip of his forked tongue and his eyes flashed amusement, every muscle in his body suddenly relaxing and causing his wings to droop notably. He knew if they considered his sudden change in stance they may think he was lulled into a peaceful calm by the inevitable battle they faced or the draw of combat, but the truth was one that was far simpler; one he wouldn't care to elaborate on if asked.
Taking a few paces ahead of whoever stood behind him, he dropped the magic that concealed his spiked, white tail while simultaneously drawing on the energies of the Shift. Within his hand formed the memory of an ethereal leaf blade, purposefully chosen for the adversary they were to face. If the rumors of it spitting or drooling acid turned out to be true, as well as it being furless, the slicing capabilities of the weapon would be useful. However if any of their information was a partial truth, especially in regards to the thickness of the creatures hide, he would immediately dismiss the weapon and fall back to using the scythe-like tip of his tail when it came to grappling range. As it was, he would be incapable of retrieving the memory of another weapon through the energies of the Shift for a time since this one had been summoned. Comparatively speaking, it was harder to keep them stable and in this reality when put against simpler items, such as torches. Of course, there were numerous other risks that came with bringing it into the Ereworld; though none of them were related to summoning the weapon in the first place. Or, rather, not directly.
Resting his tail relatively low to the ground, he mentally and physically prepared for the possibility of needing to fall back on using his rifts to give their melee combatants a better advantage over the massive beast and its minions. He also focused on the consequences of what would happen to him if his ingrained concentration or stamina was torn away. After all, the veil he created in his mind was the one thing that prevented him from solely seeing into the Shift. Losing it would make him completely useless to the party.
-
The jackal watched Nemael and Silas both prepare their guard as they entered the demolished arena. His jaw hung open slightly, although he then coughed a bit and stretched himself after picking up his jaw. Since he was one of the more fragile people, he stayed back. But due to his abilities, he had to stay close. Conflicted in mind, he just shrugged to himself and exhaled.
Camille looked around at the group, and after making sure he was quietly in the middle, moved his hands in front of him. Humming softly, he channeled some of his beads' energy to darken the area between his hands; a head sized chunk of rock-like yellow material appearing in his hands after the darkness faded. He leaned more towards the front end of the group, the chunk splitting into several smaller rocks orbiting the jackal in three vertically lined rings.
Quite normally he'd want to send them out to the front, but he also didn't want to get in the way of his teammates who probably didn't know what he was even doing. The material managed to glisten like metal, although it looked and would feel a lot less malleable than metal if touched by hand. He sighed and looked to the frontline who was looking away from him, speaking rather confidently.
"I can toss them and reform them into shields; I'll try not to work against you guys, but I can only move them so quick.. I'm keeping around the front."
At the cost of being a fragile frontliner, he knew his main role was to cover up any mistakes, and deny any surprise tactics. Although, this meant that most of his gaze would be upon the melee fighters rather than the backline, or himself. He gulped quietly, hoping he'd actually have enough skill to manipulate the terrain enough to not become a burden.
-
Unlike the group behind him, the bull terrier did not take any sort of visible preparation when they happened upon the ruined section of the forest. He merely stood there, tilting his head to get a better view of the scene, still ever curious of the creature that passed through. “The thing's got no manners, I'll tell you that,” he said, casting a glance back to the others with a half grin. Despite his air of ease about the situation, he was already at work, blood hardening just in case something leaped out from the bushes to attack him. Doing so would be the equivalent of slamming headlong into a boulder a this point.
“If we're lucky, it'll be close and pissed off that we're in its territory,” he commented, that grin spreading further. Truth be told, he never liked to wait around and it showed with how he stepped forward into the wreckage, assuming that the others would follow. “You can't tell me the thing's not territorial with the way it's been snatching up hunters and the like as soon as they enter.” Now he spoke to no one in particular so much as he was speaking to anyone that would answer him. Then, as if his display hadn't been enough, he made a more forward move, perhaps tempting the fates, “Here boy,” he cooed, whistling into the darkness. “We've got a treat for you,” a chuckle, “Actually several, but I'm not so sure you'd like the taste.”
-
Prey.
The singular thought wormed into the beast's mind like a parasite, pushing out all other thoughts. Crouched as it was behind the foliage, the dark coloring of its chitinous hide would make it all but impossible to see from this distance. It was crouched low, stalking, waiting. It was hungry. Always hungry... and there was so much flesh to maul and gnash... walking right towards it.
Food...
---
Xavier had taken his spot on the edge of the group, hanging closer to Camille as he channeled his unusual magic. The mage smiled as he imagined the fireworks that would go off when they found this thing. "Keep a tight formation if possible." He commented, his tone making it clear he was not attempting to give an order, more making a suggestion. His stance was relaxed, and he moved with casual ease as the group picked its way around giant paw prints and broken trees. The only hint of tension in the otter-wolf was that his eyes were sharply focused, and he never looked at one spot for more than a brief moment.
The sudden crack and whip of leaves and small branches was not a loud noise, but one that certainly could be heard by everyone. To the left of the party a dark shape exploded from the brush, moving so surprisingly quick that it was almost upon the closest of the group before Xavier had managed to fully turn towards it. A wolf-sized creature, maw agape with rows of razor teeth and a whip-like tongue, leapt at Nemael, the closest of the group. The unnatural, split lower jaw was slavering a black ooze, which all could tell was caustic just from the fleeting glance.
The hybrid, never the quickest of sorts, did not have time to react, and winced slightly at the impending impact. He did not have time to see what happened, however, as similar beasts came bounding from many directions. Several of the creatures snarled loudly, about a dozen of the things appearing in total. Most turned to circle the party at a short distance, moving quickly. A few went straight for the kill and lunged at Mort and Silas, no doubt eager to make quick work of them to feast upon the less-armored targets behind.
Better still, only moments after the battle engaged, a booming roar echoed from not so far into the trees.
(Sturm, could you do me a favor and post the description of the monsters I sent you into the OOC thread? Save me some redundant typing ^^)
-
Khaki took aim at the closest creature but it was too fast for him to actually hit it accurately, He let the others deal with that one and rolled to the left out of it's path. The crossbow was light and easy to draw onto a target in the jackal's hands, within moments he found another creature approaching the group. It was hideously ugly, almost completely absent of fur and seemed to drip acid from it's open jaw. Khaki had never seen anything so other-wordly and frightening and part of him felt like running away as almost a dozen identical monsters quickly surrounded them.
"Fight... Stand your ground... Do not die a coward" Khaki spoke aloud, summoning his strength as he pulled the heavy iron trigger and shot his first arrow.
The shot was dead on target and the closest creature's head snapped backwards as the arrow pierced it's jaw and lodged it's poisoned tip into the wolf-like monster's spine. There was little time for celebration as two more creatures emerged from the shadows and leaped towards him.
rather than reloading his crossbow and being caught off-guard, Khaki seized it by the stock and swung at the one of the creatures. The jackal had sharpened the steel edges of the bow for this exact purpose many years ago and he took immense satisfaction in swinging the crossbow down like an axe onto the closest creature's back. It was a killing blow that left the animal screeching and writhing in pain as it lay dying on the cold dirt.
The jackal quickly grabbed a hold of a low hanging branch and desperately pulled himself up into the tree. A few drops of acid from a creature's jaws had fallen onto his fur and he could feel it burn his skin with soft hiss. He cursed in pain as he struggled to load his crossbow from the temporary safety of the tree.
-
“Now it's a party,” Mort hissed, stepping back as the creature revealed itself. He'd have moved to intercept it, but it was upon Nemael before he could so much as make an effort. Not only that but the canine had his own problems as a pack of smaller creatures began to circle him. The bully snarled back at the creatures, showing his teeth back at them. He'd have taunted them had he had the time to before a couple lunged at him, content to try and make a meal out of him.
Mort swung his fist hard at the first creature, striking it in midair with a satisfying cracking sound and not stopping his swing until he hit the ground with the creature pinned below his fist, crushing its skull. The second was already clamoring on top of him, biting at the section of flesh between his shoulder and head, though thankfully with his blood based abilities, the thing wasn't making much progress. Like the brute he was, the canine reached over his shoulder and grabbed the creature by its upper jaw, flinging it downward off of himself. It struck the ground hard, but before it could get to its feet, his second hand was on its lower jaw pushing downward until finally, its jaw snapped. He wasn't done there, however, as he turned toward Nemael and threw the smaller creature at the hound that was upon his teammate in hopes that it would at least provide a diversion – or enough time for Nemael to get out of the way.
-
The sound of snapping tree limbs was all Nemael heard in time to see the massive beast charging from the corner of his eye, its inhuman jaws spread wide as it leapt directly for him. Immediately he knew how this had to play out, lest he lose all of his strength in the beginning of the fight and likely become the creatures latest meal. Wincing inwardly, he had no time to attempt to take a defensive posture or even adjust his footing, so he instead took the full brunt of the hounds charging force directly. An action he immediately regretted.
Skidding backwards with the talons of his armored boots digging into the dirt, his wings flared out of their own accord just as he started to lose his balance and begin to fall. Pushing its weight down onto his chest as they fell together, he brought his bracers up in time for the damnable beast to snap its jaws down onto the jagged edges seconds before they impacted with the forest floor. Electric pain lanced from his spine and into his wings as both man and beast rolled. The acid that had been slathered across his gauntlets from the glancing bite hissed. Nemael cursed under breath just as one of its minions came soaring through the air and slammed into the creatures side.
The weight on his body eased long enough for him to roll out from underneath. Scrambling up he dashed to the right, closer to his companions. Inhaling deeply, trying to regain the wind that had been knocked from him, he glanced down to his gauntlets to see that the damage was being continually inflicted. Snarling, he tore them off as quickly as he could and threw them at the beast, vaguely hoping it would be affected by its own spittle. Uttering a guttural shout, he tightened his hand around air and prepared to--...Shit!
Somewhere along the line he had lost hold of the ethereal blade he had conjured into existence. Glancing around the area, he saw that it had skittered several feet too far and that its energies were already returning to the Shift. Of course, it would have proven useless against the creature in the first place, given that it was indeed furless--but also covered in a chitinous armor that a leaf blade could never hope to cut through or even chip. Cursing, he took several steps back just as the hound regained its senses. With a booming snarl, it charged again as Nemael lifted his hands and began to draw on the energies of the Shift.
As it inevitably grew closer, he waited until the last second to open two rifts. The first was in front of him, which it had predictably dashed through. The second was closer to home and nearest someone he thought could handle it. "Rift and hound. On your right, Mort!"
-
Drake kept silent on the approach to the arena. Mentally planning ahead on what he was going to do. Once the his idea was shot down and he decided to go with the flow.
As the creatures jumped from the bushes Drake swiftly raised his hands to the sides of his head and flung his first two spells firing quick pure mana beams to the little beasts that tried to attack them on the opposite side of where all the action was coming from. The beams wouldn't do much damage but they definitely dazed the two creatures giving Drake time to cast his next spell. He swiftly placed his hands together a quickly after a gout of flame erupted from his hands but he didn't use it to directly attack the creatures. Instead he used it to make a wall of fire to block off the creatures so they would be forced to go around so the group didn't have to fight all the creatures at once. Once the wall was up he too took to a tree to give him a vantage point so he could fire beams at any of the creatures that tried to attack his allies.
-
Silas heard the movement before he saw it; making a brief, economical sidestep as a creature lunged at him. He slid his hand upward, grasping his sword by the blade in a technique called "Half swording". He used the increased leverage and control gained by such a technique to drive his sword forward into a chink in the creature's armor, the steel plated razor slid gracefully between two scales into the creature's flank, and with a quick wrench of the blade, the creature shuddered and fell over, dead.
It would take Silas just another moment to pull his silver blade out of the creature, and he would do just that, if a creature hadn't approached him from behind. He called upon his training and reflexes to whirl around, sending a quick gush of fire out of his hand using the Igni sign.
A beast Is naturally afraid of fire, especially when the fire is on the monster itself. Silas took the opportunity as the beast writhed and turned in midair, using its momentum and some of his own to bring it smashing down onto the pommel of his blade.
That was one of the things they taught him in Vorsord school; Our natural instinct is to engage in a tug of war, pushing back against the force that opposes us. Silas was trained to utilize this, to 'Go with the flow' as it were, turning any sort of momentum or heavy attack into a throw, parry, or dodge. Never, under any circumstances, would Silas attack first, unless he had an extreme advantage in doing so.
Silas planted his boot on the creature that held his sword, pulling his sword out in a quick, economical movement. A third beast pounced at him, and with a brief stab straight into the creature's three-pronged maw, that too was dead.
With a brief huff, the armored monster hunter flipped his grim on the blade around, swinging the guard of his grip straight into the side of a creature's skull, the momentum and force behind it being much like that of a war-hammer. He whirled his sword around, bringing it back down onto the creature's skull a second time. Deciding that by now it was either dead or too impaired to move. Silas quickly found a new target to attack, still swinging his sword around like it was a hammer. They were quite heavily armored, after all.
-
Earlier that day...
If it wasn't for the successful job he had done for his mistriss earlier in the morning before the sun peaked out from the horizon side… Neshar would be fairly sure that this day would be classified as a “bad day”. He winced as he painstakingly trudged his way through the brush. There was a soft thud of a long bow he had been using as a crutch, pilfered from the corpse of a bandit. Finally he came to a stop, spinning about on his heels and flopping backwards into a bush. His body utterly sunk through and struck the dirt with his rear.
He took a glance down to source of his pain. A deep cut on his leg, that flared a painful sensation naggingly with a burning erie. The feline had stopped the bleeding… but not in a manner he’d find preferable. The wound is currently a grusome sight. It was filfthy, and had been packed with dirt as an impromtu method to stop the bleeding at another risk. Once again… a very unpreferable method. But better than bleeding out in a few seconds… and more importantly… leaving a trail. No… he had blown through his last bit of medical supplies some time ago. But he never thought it’d be a problem! As long as he didn’t run into trouble! Seemed easy at first! The job was stupidly impossible to botch, no knock outs, no alarms, no sightings! Done, easy peasy! The delivery to the bird went off without a hitch, which meant that no one found out! So what went wrong?! Highway men!
And did one of them land a lucky shot… before he was killed. Neshar sighed softly, and thunked his head back against the solid trunk of a tree. His eyes closed in thought as one paw sought out his canteen. Once he had it, he tugged it free from his belt and gave it a gentle shake near his ears. And in turn, the flickered softly at the heavy sound of sloshing.
Definitely will be enough… the feline thought to himself, popping the stopper and then dumping a generous amount of water on the wound washing it out….
More Currently…
Neshar had been dead asleep after fashioning a makeshift bandage out of a wad of cloth, the string of the bow, and a few large leaves. It wouldn’t hold for long… but he didn’t need it for long. His body was well hidden underneath the bush. His limbs carefully pulled back and spread in such a way that he kept himself hidden and used his fur as a natural camouflage. His head propped up at the base of the tree, with his ears unconsciously twirling to every odd sound.
But finally his ears locked onto one particular sound. The sound of rythmic drumming on earth. Uneven, unfamiliar. Foot steps. The feline’s eyes cracked open immediately, his eyes slowly swiveling to the direction of the sound. He unconciously slowed his breathing and pulled his out stretched limbs closer to himself.
The bandits? He thought hesitantly to himself. He didn’t dare to move to much more than slightly lifting his chin to peer through the leaves that surrounded him as a… cabal of some sort trecked their way past him. The big ugly bully just barely missed stepping on his tail, which laid outstreatched in the tall grass.
Then they stopped. One of them only a foot away from him.
“.....my luck…” The feline groaned softly in his head. His lips parting in a grimace as he slowly pulled his tail back. But that was when he heard a blood curling roar. A roar terrifying enough that it almost caused the started feline to suddenly leap out of his hiding place. But years of training had beatten that instinct down. And instead only caused him to quickly sieze his muscles up, and shut his eyes.
His ears… didn’t have that sort of luxury. He was greeted with the ensueing sounds of battle of men against beast!
“STORMS! What’s going on,” Neshar hissed softly to himself, daring to crack an eye open to peer out to the world outside of his horribly selected foxhole.
Someone shouted something… Neshar couldn’t quite make it out between the sounds of rustling leaves and snarling jaws. But a sudden and strange glow, followed by an unsual breeze did draw his attention. The male stared in shock as a portal opened directly next to him… and out came one of the snarling beasts.
The startled creature’s momentum carried it on, barreling itself into the thief, and knocking him out of the bushes with a startled cry. Neshar’s hands instinctively sped to action. The shot forward, seeping out a magic aura in the process, and grabbed at the creature’s head. He gave the hound’s jaws a sharp twist and tug towards himself. The hound now off balance, stumbled forward, giving Neshar a chance to pull his legs over himself, and kick it away and back into the bushes.
The feline quickly scrambled, his mind racing for some sort cover. His keen eyes racing between each of the members. None of them had the hardened criminal look of a background, and they all appeared to have a big damn hero look about them. Or so he thought anyways. But that was good enough! Luckily for the feline he was still in civilian clothes! Perhaps with a little lie, he could keep his cover?
“Oh thank the Storm Father! M-masters! Please help! I got injured some time back by a group of highway men. I tried to run home… but these… these things were on my tail!”
-
As the frontline dispersed into the fight, Camille found himself being targeted by the beasts like the rest around him. His rocks formed two rough and floating shields and some armor around his boots. Immediately using the shields as a wall between the smaller beasts and himself, he managed to stubbornly kick the creature off of him. Looking down, the jackal moved the shield against the small beast and the ground. A hard snarl and whine following as the shield crushed it while Camille poured energy into doing so. His beads glowed vibrantly, as the connections with the fighters and opponents around him empowered him. Using his second shield to deflect the others, Camille finished crushing the first to hop and brought up his second shield.
His rough kicking showed that he wasn't the most skilled melee fighter, although his magic was able to keep the creatures off of him and Xavier for the most part. The jackal stood very still as he focused upon draining the life force of the dead creature before the large hound would come. His eyes met Xavier's for a moment, and he spoke fairly quietly.
"Watch my left."
He shifted his attention to Khaki; breaking one shield into two smaller parts. The large shield kept his right clear(only a yard away), as the smaller halves slammed the creatures on Khaki's tree against the tree. Although not nearly hard enough to kill like the first, it pinned them slightly. Just enough for the other jackal to get a few free shots. Camille practically frozen in stance as he maintained this; his eyes darted between his right and front as his right hand moved slightly; the large shield moving along with it to block whatever he could.
The jackal snarled he felt a gripping around his leg; a smaller creature's tongue crawling past his boot's protection and nearing his robes.
-
Xavier kept a careful eye on the progress of the fighting for the first few seconds, in no position to safely engage the initial rush for fear of hitting his allies. The hybrid's offensive magic was volatile and chaotic, difficult to control. As hounds rushed in from all angles to try and rip at Camille, he moved to position himself between the mage and the beasts. He used his own shielding magic, a glimmering white light that trailed form his paws, to shield one direction. The silver-white magic only made very temporary shields, like a thick pane of glass. His foot caught the creature licking at Camille's leg, causing it to ball up before it was summarily executed with a blast of fiery magic stuffed down its maw.
He raised his arm slightly to ward off the sudden heat as a wall of fire suddenly flared to his left, stopping the advance of several of the creatures. They did not give up the attack, however, and quickly began circling around to the rear of the group, long strides quickly taking them around the wall of flames. Xavier smiled and let out a small chuckle as he moved to intercept the duo.
"Nemael, the flanks" He called, having already noticed that the crafty male had sent his current opponents to other parts of the battle via some sort of portal. No more would likely be coming from that direction to threaten the Shift-User.
Fire pooled into Xavier's palms, like water from a spring, dripping hungrily to the ground as it overflowed. The flames licked around his fingers and up his arms, covering his paws like an armor.
The sizzling crack of flames lancing from his paws sounded like cannons, the initial pair of blasts aimed just in front of the charging creatures. The explosive magic rocketed dirt and debris from the forest floor in a plume, blinding the creatures as they charged through. The experienced treasure hunter grinned to himself as the hounds came on relentlessly, plowing through the could of dirt. The only sing of their impairment was a slight veering of trajectory, no longer coming on in a straight line. Xavier held out his paws, tracking the beasts until they came within but a few long strides.
CRACK... CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The booming retort of super-heated air sounded several times in quick succession, bolts of destruction lancing into the creatures at close range, leaving fiery trails back to the hybrid's paws. The beasts were surprisingly tough, and though the first gout of magic had sent them tumbling to the ground, they had started to rise again. The air sizzled and cracked as he unleashed devastation into the fiendish monsters. He strode forward as he did so, soon fearlessly standing over the pair as he pummeled them with rapid fire blasts. They struggled against it at first, but after a few seconds of bombardment they fell still, bludgeoned to death by the explosive force, sizzling and smoking from the heat.
Xavier lowered his paws, still burning with magical energy, as he surveyed the damage briefly. One of the creatures twitched, a pathetic attempt to stand. It was met with a final, and particularly potent, blast of flames that simply tore the weakened beast to pieces, chitin and gore splattering the miniature crater formed by it's earlier writhing. The hybrid just smiled cheerily at the corpses and turned to return to the group, having moved some several yards away. It was then that a third beast, a bit late to the party, came bounding out of the trees from behind them. Xavier turned to meet it, his ears picking out the uncomfortably close sound even amongst the noises of battle. Again his lack of dexterity and speed came into play, the creature bearing down on him before he could align an attack to slow it. He raised an arm to ward off the bite, the flames of his magic offering some protection, but not enough to cease the damage altogether as fangs tore into his sleeve and flesh. He held his ground, somehow, and with his free paw he slammed the creature's face repeatedly. His physical strength was clearly not on par with Mort's to anyone watching, but the magical fire augmenting his blows lent a force to each swing that dazed the creature after several hits. Xavier's arm was bleeding severely, the caustic spittle burning holes into his overcoat and through his fur that he pointedly ignored. Free from the vice-like jaws, the mage chose the simple rout of action and just kept bashing the creature with his left fist. Now with room to properly swing his blows, the creature was quickly bore down into the ground. Heavily armored opponents were rather irksome for Xavier, who had no adequate way of cutting through, he simply had to bludgeon the things to death. This particular monster fared somewhat better than its companions, stubbornly shrugging away from some of the hybrid's punches to bite and rip at him where it could. The beast's strength eventually failed to match up, slowly caving in to the assault. It did, however, keep Xavier occupied for some time as he furiously crushed it into a bloody mess.
When he finally looked back up, his arms were smeared with blood, though how much was his own was anybody's guess. He was still smiling, though now it was a gleeful grin. The berserker mage, some called him, a nickname he had conveniently declined to mention.
-
Drake continued using his vantage point to control and gauge the battle field. He noticed that the little creatures wouldn't stop coming and the large one looked mighty angry. Maybe if the large one was killed the little ones would stop coming. He was about to lay down a charge on the large creature when the noticed the civilian and his attacker. Cursing lightly under his breath he charged him and pulled him closer to the group just as the airborne creature was shot out of the air. "Don't stay out in the open by yourself idiot!" He yelled to him hoping that the chaos of the battle field didn't distract him. Being this close though he saw the slave collar around his neck. Drake didn't wait for a awnser though the big creature needed to fall or soo the company of adventures would be overwhelmed.
He ran at the beast using his telekinesis spell to push him along much faster than any being could run closing the gap in mere seconds. Once a few strides away a ethereal blade of a unknown material appeared in his hand. It was a simple long sword with serations on it's backside. Drake used his momentum and all his force to strike at the creature's face. It saw this and riled up to roar but Drake hit it cleanly chopping off one of it's lower jaw segments. Drake then slid underneath the creature going for a stab anywhere on it's body using his telekinesis again and his strength to stab the sword much faster and stronger than any normal mortal could possibly achieve causing the blade to penetrate it's armor but because Drake was going so fast he had to leave the blade behind. Drake left in there even though he was low in mana but he needed to pull this off if he were to possibly leave it open to get the creature killed. Drake spun around as he passed the creature to continue looked at it having his hands meet again another gout of flame erupted from his hands bathing the creature in fire. But more importantly his imbedded sword. The sword heated up from the fire sending that heat directly into it's insides causing it massive pain and the sheer amount of fire over it too cause the behemoth to panic. It wanted to run but the blade that was cooking it prevent it from doing so. Drake kept the fire on it till his mana reserve ran out but by that time anyone smart enough to see what he was doing would be quick enough to finish it off.
-
Nemael's ears twitched when he caught Xavier shouting about their flanks. Cocking his head and shifting position, he closed off the rift that had been opened nearest Mort and created another. This one was set at the point he deemed to be the most vulnerable to attack as well as carefully placed near the rising geysers of flame. Between the impenetrable walls of fire that one mage had created and the pools Xavier was creating, their arena was neatly closed in, now only allowing entry from several specific points that could be easily maintained. Exhaling slowly, he rolled his shoulders and wings to release the tension that had been building, then began to turn in order to aid whoever else needed it.
Scanning the field, his attention was caught by the sudden movement of the mage that had leapt into the tree dashing into the middle of the fray. Confusion flashed across his face until he saw that he was ferrying a civilian that had been hiding in the underbrush. Although he did not know their reasoning for residing in the midst of a field that was obviously within hostile territory, he did find himself mentally commending them for not having been killed... yet. Watching Drake drop the civilian in the middle of their enclosed group, he took several steps back; enough that he could be heard over the din of combat without shouting.
"Can you fight?" Just after he spoke, several explosions loudly rang over the field, the air briefly becoming intensely heated. Chancing a glance back towards Xavier and Camille, he saw the hybrid in the midst of gleefully tearing a hound apart as he slammed his fist into its hide repeatedly. Immediately he found that he was rather impressed, having written the man off as yet another mage who was not physically capable. It was reassuring to know that every mage in this group at least had some prowess when it came to grappling range and fisticuffs.
"If you can't, stay in the center. But if you can, there is supposed to be something far worse than these bastards roaming the fields." Mistaking the feline for a noncombatant in the wrong place at a terribly wrong time, he was treating him less gruffly than he did those around him. His experience with those who were not entirely combat ready was superior by comparison to the men and women who proclaimed themselves great hunters and heroes.
His muzzle wrinkled at the thought.
Turning away from Neshar, he caught sight of yet another houndling that had wound its way around the field and was being taken care of by Drake. This one that had been slightly larger than the others and was the final of the monstrosities that had charged out from the trees, marking the twelfth that had been drawn into a one-on-one fight, ignoring the one currently dazed against the tree where Khaki hid. Smirking from beneath his cowl, he dashed towards Drake to aid him in felling the beast, taking note of the blade that was currently entrenched in the creatures body. Eyes narrowing, he imbued the weapon with the magic of the Shift, acting similarly to the fire that Drake had been pouring into it mere seconds ago.
Dashing around to the side, he caught sight of what remained of his gauntlets and quickly retrieved them. Fitting the clawed tips over his fingers and part of the hand brace, he kicked away what little of the metal had not yet turned into a black sludge before returning his attention to the hound. Noting that it was dancing around, slamming its body into trees and whatever else it could to dislodge the ethereal sword stuck into its back, he came running up behind the panicking creature and did something he wished he could have done in the first place.
Though it was a tricky maneuver and incredibly draining, he opened a third rift. However, not only did this one solely go into the Shift, he opened it horizontally and straight through the lower-middle of the creature. Without the efforts of Drake to slow the beast and his current proximity to the dying animal, he would not have been capable of maintaining enough energy to perform such a feat. As it was, opening tears in wide spaces was easy enough; bringing them into existence on an actively moving target was damn near impossible. Thus when it had chosen to throw itself into one tree for a prolonged period of time, it gave him just what he required and he took no time in making use of it.
"By the Gods," he murmured, exhaling loudly. He watched as its legs and stomach were torn from its body, viscera spilling to the ground. Closing the rift once the beast was dead, he shook his head slowly and sighed gratefully.
-
Khaki had quickly dispatched the creatures that Camile had pelted against his tree with a shout of gratitude and he now pulled back his crossbow string and reloaded his next arrow with an efficiency that he'd never thought he had before. He took aim at a creature running nearby, letting the notches that he'd carved into the wood as sights hover over it's head as he tracked it.
He carefully depressed the trigger and watched the arrow shot forwards with a high pitched buzz. but the arrow sailed over his target, missing it's shoulder by two feet.
"Son of a whore!" he cursed as he heaved the string back and loaded another arrow into the breech. the creature was heading towards Silas, carefully pacing around his back as the Alsatian fought off another wolf-sized monster. Realizing he was too far for an accurate shot, Khaki jumped down from the tree to get closer to the creature. The Jackal hit the ground harder than he anticipated and had to roll to the side to avoid injury, he quickly pulled himself up and ran towards the creature stalking Silas.
Once he was only dozen paces away, the jackal aimed at the wolf-like being's flank and shot an arrow that landed squarely behind it's neck. On an normal animal the impact alone from such a well-placed shot would have killed anything up to the size of a large cow in seconds, but Khaki was painfully reminded again that these were no ordinary animals, as rather than fall to the ground dead, the creature whipped around and ran towards him, bleeding heavily as it closed the gap between them. Khaki had little time to reload and he drew the large curved dagger on his belt and faced the charging beast.
Just as the creature's acid jaw opened up to attack him, the jackal sidestepped and grabbed a hold of the arrow that lodged in the beast's neck and let it tear free as the creature passed him. The steel barbs of the arrow tore through the softer flesh of the animal's neck and left a gaping wound as was roughly pulled out. The unfortunate animal staggered onwards and weakly tried to turn as the frenzied jackal kicked it to the ground and slashed his knife across the creature's throat twice, quickly ending it's miserable existence.
He kicked the creature's head aside with a growl and ran back to join the others.
-
Everything seemed to happen in a blur as each of the houndlings fell at the hands of the group. Before he could turn to grab the third hound that had been flung at his left, it was taken by one of the mages, which caused the bully to snarl every so slightly – he'd been looking forward to pulling his weight, but rather than dwell on it, Mort put his hand to his shoulder, suddenly feeling the burn of the acid that had no doubt settled on his shoulder with a hiss. So far as he could tell, the others were fairing just fine, with the exception of a new addition which was being taken care of. For now, he attempted to play first aid as quickly as he could manage before something was upon them again.
“Damn assholes,” he grumbled, doing his best to purge the acid with his blood-bourne abilities, which probably looked about as strange as it was – black blood bubbled from the wound, and as quickly as it surfaced, the canine grabbed a handful of nearby leaves and swiped the clot off his shoulder into the dirt. Resisting the urge to step on it, he returned to a standing position, glancing around at the wreckage, but before he could make a snide comment, another one of those roars echoed from the bush, now even louder than before.
-
Xavier came trudging back to the main group, the slow fade of adrenaline giving way to a searing, acid-induced pain in more places than he cared to admit. His right arm had taken the brunt of the damage, the deep gashes caused by the creatures teeth hissing and sizzling. The hybrid was supernaturally tough, but corrosives still worked with perfect efficiency against him. He had to force himself to let go of his battle frenzy, the craving for violence culled by the immediate danger that his arm might well dissolve clear through if he did not call upon his protective magic.
Xavier was more of a sorcerer than a true mage, and his magic relied on emotional state and willpower alone. While wildfire worked much more effectively if he was angry, the silver-white shielding magic was nigh impossible to summon in that state. As his clarity of thought returned, so too did the pain of the rather severe wound. He saw the others finishing the rest of the houndlings, but could offer no assistance at the moment as he wrapped his arm in magic, a soft white light slowing from the injuries he had sustained. The minor healing properties were not even strong enough to combat the acid's corrosion, but it would slow it down... perhaps enough. Xavier was familair with acid, and knew that it would quickly lose potency... hopefully BEFORE it reached the bone.
He took his good arm and rubbed a corner of his sleeve into the wound, pulling away as much of the caustic fluid as he could. He would have to be a lot more careful sustaining wounds from these creatures, as would everyone else. As he looked around, he noticed nobody else had taken any serious damage, and mentally scolded himself for being so careless.
It was at right about that point in his thought process that the treeline ahead of the party parted like tall grass, trees falling dangerously close to the group's front-runners. From behind the collapsing trunks stepped a beast that made Xavier second guess his decision to venture out here in the first place. Standing as tall as the trees it had so casually pushed aside was the Hound of Lockwise forest. Dark beady eyes set in the armor-plated skull slowly surveyed the scene, betraying some moderate amount of intellect. This was no simple beast like its minions, and upon seeing the carnage on the field it opened its jaws slowly, threateningly. Vitriolic acid left trails between its horrible fangs, dollops of the stuff falling the hiss and burn through the trunk of one of the trees in mere seconds. Its paws were massive, and behind each was a twin pair of spines, wicked and curved. Whatever hell this creature had crawled out of would no doubt prefer it stayed gone.
-
Drake saw the creature he was burning fall before and whooped when it fell. He removed the sword from existence and the mana that was containing it was returned to him. He almost thought it was over when he heard the second roar. As soon as he heard it he pulled a mana potion from his satchel and quickly guzzled it down quickly. If he was going to fighting another monster he needed to replenish his mana. As soon as he finished the big bad boss finally showed itself. Drake smirked he enjoyed a good challenging fight and this beast seems like he would provide. But first things first he needed to distract it or it would quickly tear apart the team. He quickly closed the gap the same way as before and gave it a strong blast of pure mana trying to knock it over.
-
Dispersing the remaining portals when the last of the houndlings fell, he turned away from the carnage and briefly glanced over those who still remained. Counting in his head, he noted that all seven were still alive and well, albeit some in worse condition than others. The person he had initially thought was a noncombatant had remained on the field as well, a curious bow slung across his torso. Eyes narrowing, he was about to question the feline when the trees behind him began to fall. Noisily crashing to the earth and the ground rumbling beneath his feet, he immediately knew what had walked onto the scene. However, he was not prepared for its immense size when he turned back around, subconsciously taking a single step back as he surveyed the entirety of the massive beast. He clenched his jaw instead of allowing it to go slack in surprise. Apparently the apothecary and the survivor he spoke of had not been lying about its brutal size.
"Xavier..." Although he whispered the name, he tried to make it loud enough to for the hybrid to hear. "This does not appear to be a bright idea."
Now that it had established its presence, he slowly began to work his way back towards the rest of the group. He had learned his lesson after being the first one attacked in the initial throng of houndlings. Nemael also knew quite well that if this thing tried to pull the same stunt as the little bastards, neither his magical barrier or armor would be capable of holding it off; let alone saving his life yet again. "Spirits," he cursed under breath. Taking a few more cautious steps back, he finally stopped just as he felt his tail briefly brush against one of the many who had been near the center of their makeshift arena. "How the hell are we supposed to kill this thing, let alone injure it?" he wondered aloud, wary of it somehow understanding what he was saying. As it was, the distinct intelligence it displayed made him far too conscious of the situation they were in.
-
Silas turned, sword in hand. Luckily, no acid had gotten on his sword, but a few drops had gotten on his armor. thankfully, Dimetrium fared quite well when face up with acidic attacks of pretty much any sort, but that did not mean that the cloth that held together his armor did. If too much acid got on him, it would disintegrate, and fall apart.
He was in the middle of drinking a potion that would neutralize any trace of a poison in his bloodstream when he heard a loud boom, followed by the snap snap snap! of breaking trees, and the immense, ground shaking thud of a heavy beast running at full speed.
He immediately whirled around, a smile on his face... the potion that he had just consumed had been known to have some anger inducing effects, but the Vorsord didn't notice such things. However, he noticed that damnable thing, it's very presence seeming to gloat 'Oh, I'm here! you can't kill me, I'm at the top of the food chain!' And Silas, being the good Vorsord that he is, intended to change that.
"Ploughing Son of a WHORE!" Silas screamed, holding his sword over his head, savagely, proudly over his head as he charged, ready to slit the thing's throat. That thing needed to die, and it needed to die now!
-
"Yes, perhaps not." Came the contemplative reply from the hybrid, who had also taken a few steps back from the beast himself.
A few of the more brave, or more likely reckless, members of the group were already going on the offensive. The blast of magic from Drake his the beast full in the chest, the flash of energy briefly lighting up the clearing. While the beast clearly felt the impact, the blast clearly lacked the force required to move such a colossal creature, and the chitinous hide showed no signs of damage.
The Hound bounded the short distance towards the mage, lowering its head and bulling into him. Upon impact it raised its head in a quick motion, likely tossing the much smaller man up into the air with tremendous force. Successful or not, its attention would shift to the Vorsord. It met the charging canine with a roar that shook leaves from nearby trees, droplets of corrosive saliva spraying wildly out in front of it.
Unlike before the creature stood its ground against the armored male's charge, attempting to swipe a giant paw at him as he neared. The spines on the back of its paw stretched out to meet the Vorsord, each long enough to easily impale the man.
A pair of small explosions ignited against the side of the creature's head, causing it to turn just slightly to protect its eye. Xavier's magic had a highly diminished effect from this range, and only able to use one paw greatly reduced his firepower. Still, that might give the attackers some minuscule advantage. "We need something that can break it's hide." He growled to those nearest to him. While he was eager to help his comrades, rushing in headlong against this particular foe did not sit well with him.
-
Neshar effortlessly kept up his act. Even through all the pushing, shoving, and even scorn he had endured from this rag tag band of… whatever they were. He easily imitated a nervous and frightened civilian. He stood up straight, wide eyes, and ears nervously flicked back. His thumbs twiddling as he flicked his eyes too and fro. But… they had a different intention behind the fear struck gaze. He was observing them, wondering if they would be a threat to him when all was finished… or would they be the kind sort.
Given that they had pulled him to a position of safety that not even their back line seemed to be enjoying… he’d be willing to put a few coins on the friendly bet. But he wasn’t willing to take the plunge of going all in, case he got burned.
But… with each one of them fighting with all their gusto… Neshar could only hope that they were friendly. Because storms! They were amazing! The cluster of bandits he dealt with earlier were nothing compared to this lot. They could kill him in a heart beat if they turned on him now!
And that’s something he should be worrying about now… the battle was over as quickly as it had began.
The feline was careful to continue his act. His eyes warily scanning about, noticing everyone relaxing before finally pipping up. “E-er… masters. You… mentioned something worse than these things,” the feline mused wanely. He took a few tentative steps forward. His tail… twitching… but not bristling. Something the feline never figured out how to control willingly.
His eyes fell on the wound that was eating away at Xavier’s shoulder. And he held out a palm. “Forgive me masters… for being a bother. But… perhaps I ca-”
The feline paused when his ears picked up a strange disturbance in the air. First… a rumbling. Then a bone chilling roar! Then finally… the crackling and screeching of trees as they fell, and thundered against the soft earth.
The feline grimaced as he dared to look up… and spotted some indescribable horror. Not… really. It was very describable. It just looked like a bigger version of the hounds this group had been fighting. And… that means if this is what they were after… they were probably insane. The cat was about to openly suggest a tactical retreat… as he wasn’t the only one who noticed they weren’t prepared for this sort of fight. But… sadly bravery and brovado could lead a fool to death it seems… as a few members of the party had already charged head on with no real sort of plan.
“F-fools,” The feline yelped as he reached out to grab hold of one of them… though they were just out of reach. The feline pulled his hand back, and watched with a befuddled gaze. How many adventuring parties have met their deaths like this? Far too many… and this will be one that joined those ranks it seemed. Neshar, slowly turned contemplating his leave. But he paused after hearing a voice.
“Just need something that can break it’s hide?” The feline mumbled to himself. At least that confirmed one of them was capable of thought. The cat sighed as a thought slipped into his head. Something that big is probably more dangerous to it’s self than it thinks. It might be intelligent… but Neshar highly doubt it had ever sprayed it’s self with acid before.
The feline spun around, his body phazing into transparency for only a brief moment before flickering back to normal. He was no longer wearing his civilian get up, but was in his actual thieving equipment.
The feline tore his shortbow off of his back, and already had an arrow knocked up to it’s neck. He fired it, sending it hurtling through the air with a trail of whisping black smoke behind it, and slamming against the creature’s hard chitin. Predictably it bounced off, spiraling upwards. In just a second… the feline disappeared, and reappeared, twirling in the air in place of the arrow. Which was now in his hand. He grunted as he landed back first against the creature’s head and tumbled down it’s neck towards it’s body. In his last few tumbles, he bounced up into the air and landed back on his feet.
His heart was racing as he quickly took aim once more, and released a flurry of haphazardly flying arrows towards the creature’s head. He mentally cursed himself behind each arrow he fired. A few wizzing about strangely. Some twirled in the air after making a playful arch and battering the alpha’s head. A few did do arrow things… but only served to make a loud clack after breaking it’s arrowhead on the citin and falling to the ground. That was all find. Neshar had no plans on harming the creature like that. He just wanted to severely piss it off into doing something stupid.
If the creature did pay some mind to the minor little nuisance. The feline would knock his last arrow, and fire it into it’s open mouth. Hopefully that would be enough to provoke it into showering it’s own body with acid. Regardless… the feline was prepared to make a hasty ret-
CRACK!
A resounding boom ripped through the air, followed by a small plume of smoke in a blaze of glory and soaring embers, and metal fragments.
“I actually had a one of THOSE left!?” The thief mentally screamed. His bewildered facial expression hidden behind his mask. Those his easily seen wide eyes betrayed any attempt of impasse he tried to provide. That… explosive arrow was surely going to do some damage… provided it didn’t kill it… and provided it didn’t…. sort of just turn it from agitated to positively RANCOROUS. Very much the case... the arrow is heavier... which means that the feline didn't quite compensate for that fact thanks to his lack of inventory managing. The arrow could have very well fell a little ways lower and struck it's neck instead.
-
Camille groaned out as he kicked at the creatures below him.. The pace changed quickly when the largest of the beasts approached with its showering entrance. He yanked back his shields and watched as the newest recruit fired his arrow straight at the beasts' maw. Eyes widening, he grit his teeth and dived forward. Both shields combining into one, forming a wall before the thief and himself as he leaned against it; effectively shielding most of the shards of the arrow and acid flying towards the group.. Camille sapped the energy of those dead around him, his weight pressed against his own transparent wall as he watched the beast affront of it.. The acid of its maw sliding down it and not affecting the material.
He exhaled slowly, eyes shut as he grit his teeth. A crackling noise roared out as he looked out; the material shattering and reforming to cover Silas' chest. As Camille watched him act brashly. Kneeling in exhaustion, a second crack manifested itself.. A short moment after materializing, the light material faded with a bright display. Camille bit his lip and cursed beneath his breath, moving back. Eyes widening as he retreated toward the center of the group; panting sharply and panicking; trying to restore any material of the light around them. Although the sunlight was in large quantity, the mage still had quite a lot of work to do as he converted the material. He moved towards the back, relying upon his allies to cover him.
"I'm going to attempt weighing it down, but I need to focus.." He panted out, teeth still grit as his eyes focused upon the beast.
In a similar fashion as before, more material appeared. This time in a lava like state(although without the heat), the mage attempted to launch it at the right side of the beast. Camille was locked in his stance, eyes focused upon his target.
-
Nemael bit back a retort when Silas went charging straight for the fiend, sword raised above his head while he screamed. The first thought that came to mind was the death throes of a madman. It also made him fairly certain it would lead to Silas' unfortunate end, a great warrior felled by the adrenaline of war against beast. Briefly he considered the same for the mage who had also been in the great things path, but his attention quickly shifted from what was happening to them and instead to the man he had noted was not new to combat. First it was blithe statements of the obvious, then a sudden explosion that seemed to momentarily daze the animal they faced. Unsure whether to mentally commend or reprimand every last one of them, he slowly shook his head before finally coming to the conclusion it was better to act than to stand there as a nuisance.
Glancing to Mort, a small grin creased the cloth around his mouth as a thought came to mind. The man had stated his obvious disdain and disappointment at the fact he had participated little in the prior fight mere moments ago. This would wind up becoming his inspiration. "Mort!" he barked suddenly. Calling on the energies of the shift, he opened a rift only slightly off center of his vision, so that he may still see around the glistening thing rather than being blinded to the hounds attack. "How far can you fall without dying?"
Depending on Mort's response, he would either open another rift at the maximum height allowed or completely shut down the idea. He did not know whether or not he had used too much of... whatever powered his blood borne abilities nor if his hide was tough enough to withstand such a maneuver without its aid. On the upside, it would put the bully not only into the midst of battle, but right on the things back.
Regardless of the inevitable response, he moved closer to Camille after his comment and effectively turned himself into a physical shield. How much good that would do against the thing if it dashed at them was questionable, but it would at least give him enough time to shut down both rifts and open two more for the three mages to make a mad dash through if it came down to it. However, where they would likely end up was in the air--both literally and figuratively. If forced to create them both within seconds, they could wind up two feet from the ground... or several dozen. Fortunately, he felt assured that it would not come down to such tactics when Camille sent a blast of what appeared to be magma straight at the beasts face, distractions coming at it from all angles.
-
Drake saw the large beasts attack quite easily because it was a large lumbering beast. Better yet why wouldn't he see it. Drake managed to mostly avoid the attack bouncing off of the side of it's head almost knocking it over. But he had a place and it all depended if he could get underneath it. As Drake fell he used his telekinesis spell to push him in the right direction and with a small leap he was underneath. Quickly he tried to plunge an ethereal Dagger into it's hopefully softer underside by using the same technique as before using both his telekinesis and his full strength. If it succeeded he would plunge another dagger into it and hold on, if it failed he would slide out from the underside and reexamine the beast to find another weak point.
-
As the beast showed itself, Mort took a few steps back, surprised at the mere size of the thing – even with his abilities, he wasn't sure being up close and personal as he was with the houndlings would benefit him, especially with that spit. He wasn't afraid so much as he was sure that there would have to be some tactical way to injure the thing, especially when some of the group began to charge forward and attack to no avail. For a moment he seemed caught up in his own head until he heard a voice pierce the fog that was his mind.
“How far can you fall without dying?”
The bully turned his head, grinning at that – perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “A pretty reasonable distance. Higher than most people anyway. Dropping me will be like dropping a boulder on its ass, especially if you go from a good height.” Despite his usual position at the front of the line, the bully had enough mind to step back behind the shields, or at least close enough to be able to act on whatever Nemael was thinking. “Why you got a plan? I'm all for plans.”
-
Seeing the manic grin that crossed his features, Nemael immediately knew he had struck the right chord. Turning away from Camille and the onslaught that was occurring between the many participants, he kept his voice low, as though conspiring. In reality, he feared the damned thing might understand what he was planning and somehow make a move to shift its great bulk away at the last second. He was also fairly certain this was unnecessary paranoia as, in his opinion, it did not display the intelligence or fortitude to even understand language.
"Indeed. One that I think you will quite like." Sliding his gaze away, he judged the creatures current path. "I am going to open another rift above the hound. I would like you to charge through this one," he waved to the one he had already set in front of the man. "Then use your abilities when you judge best to drop on either its spine or head; up to you. From what I saw earlier, you would do far more damage than a boulder. Thus depending on where you choose to hit it, or where it is most opportune at the moment, it should either crack a few of those plates, break them, or even stop its current mad dash."
Watching as the mage deftly slid underneath the hound, he reconsidered the idea for a second. However he quickly shook his head, discarding the possible outcome in favor of Drake knowing to get out from under the animal when it was beast; especially when he saw a thin trail of blood coming from where the mage had apparently sunk something into its flesh. "Depending on the damage you do and if you can withstand a second hit, I'll open another rift near you. This way you can hit the damned thing as much as you like from varying angles, though note I can only do this a few more times. After that, I will have to close them." Tail swaying slowly behind him, his eyes narrowed as the fight continued. "Sound like a plan?"
If Mort agreed, he would set about immediately opening the second rift for him to come falling through, then the rest in quick succession until he was no longer able.
-
“I'll do you one better than that,” Mort asserted, moving himself in position to charge through said portal. His maniacal grin was enough to show his feelings on the issue, perhaps a bit too giddy to get literally thrown in the midst of battle, though with their current predicament, it wasn't as if he'd had much of choice... He'd try anything at least once – which was why he was willing to trust a stranger to throw him through some mystery portal over an enormously deadly and practically indestructible hound. “If this doesn't work, I hope you're prepared to get me out of this mess, too,” he huffed, the dark blood on his shoulder going rigid as he disappeared through the rift, clasping both hands together so that he could deliver a heavy drop of his elbow directly.
As promised, he came flying out of the second portal, though instead of going for the head or spine in particular, Mort directed himself to try to get a mixture of both aiming to connect his elbow to the neck, just between where it connected to the head. “Take this, mutt,” he growled, jerking his elbow downward to allow more force to his hit. With the distance he was dropped, there was no doubt he'd do damage – now he only hoped that he'd chosen the right spot to aim.
-
Feeling that the acid was not going to abate as quickly as he had hoped, and with the entire group engage din offensive combat Xavier looked at his arm with a mixture of pain and aggravation. He raised a paw to it, pointing a single digit and averting his face. The snap of magic and the hiss of burning skin followed the maneuver, the destructive magic biting deeper into his skin. Luckily the force had cleaned away most of that pesky vitriolic goo. Unluckily, without some serious healing he was going to be managing the rest of the fight one-armed.
As the others began executing their strategies and counter-moves against the beast, he stripped his coat from his bad arm and quickly began tying the limb up in a way that would prevent it from moving as much as possible. Watching intently...
----
The magical shield in front of Silas exploded into a fine mist, but it had served its purpose. The momentum of the beast's swipe had been stopped almost entirely, giving Silas a clear window to act.
The Hound whirled in a circle, attacks coming at it from several directions at once. Something was jabbing it in the stomach. Not painfully, hardly even enough for it to feel, but that meant somehow something had gotten beneath it without getting trampled. It was spinning around as much in hopes of stepping on whatever pest was down there as to orient itself to the attacks, for truthfully none so far had harmed it.
It heard more than felt the arrows clicking off of the back of its head, and turned to look over its shoulders. A particularly heavy 'clunk' sounded near the lower part of its face, and then it was reeling. The beast staggered several steps away from the explosion that had rocked its face, the chitinous plates and much of its skin having been blasted free, exposing a black and res mottled flesh. A large portion of the right side of the creatures head was now entirely unprotected, and though its eye was stung by the smoke and debris, it could still see.
It roared and wheeled again, facing back the way it had come from, confronting this dangerous assailant and keeping its face turned away from the rest of the adventurers. Before it knew what was happening its face was forced down into the ground, something heavy and pointed coming down on its neck with tremendous force. One of the armor plates along its backside cracked audibly, splintering like brittle bone beneath the force of that attack. The concussion of the creature being forced to the ground caused a ring of dust to kick up from the forest floor, the shockwave a breeze that blew leaves and dirt across battlefield.
Strong as it was, the blow did not fell the creature, which rose back up again almost immediately. However, it moved with a sluggishness that denoted pain, now both the base of its neck and side of its face exposed to harm. It bucked and twisted, trying to throw the assailants from its back, mouth open hungrily as it growled in savage frustration. Single-minded in its desire to rend and tear whatever living creatures were near it. It was then that Camille's magic hit it in the flank, the semi-solid energy sticking it to the ground. At first it pulled free with a wrenching motion, but the magical energies stuck to it began weighing it down, until soon enough it could hardly move its front leg on the left side.
Feeling the desperate situation it suddenly found itself in, the creature howled. The cry was answered from several spots elsewhere in the forest. It's tongue slipped from its mouth, long and rope-like, lashing around its back to try and catch or dislodge Mort and Neshar, coated in that horrific acid.
----
Seeing the group in action Xavier was suddenly much more hopeful for their odds. He finished tying off the makeshift sling for his arm. It was time to rejoin the fight... and from the sounds of the howling there was still quite a fight to be had.
-
Drake smiled when the dagger imbedded itself into the softer underside of the beast. Now he needed to get his sword in. He pulled his arm back and summoned the blade and as he was about to make it plunge into the beast like the dagger when the blast happened. Drake's ears were ringing at tge sheer sound of it and disorienting him a little causing the stab to slide off the armor. Drake then panicked a bit and held onto his dagger dropping the sword and phasing it out of existence. He held on to the dagger successfully till Mort fell from the sky the impact knocking the dagger out of it's wound launching Drake away from the beast. He was too disoriented to do anything at this point.
-
“Go for its legs!” Mort growled, doing his best to hold onto the back of the creature as he could. If they could take out the thing's legs, it would at least stop moving so that he could deliver blows until the thing was dead. As it stood now, Mort was raising one fist at a time, bludgeoning the thing as best as he could with hardened fists whenever the thing wasn't squirming wildly. “I hope you're ready Nemael,” the canine huffed, doing his best to avoid the whip like tongue. It struck him at least once, which hurt like hell, but allowed him to manipulate his blood more freely.
The second time it whipped back around, the fighter had manipulated his blood into a glove like layer before he grabbed at it, coiling it around his fists. The blood sizzled accordingly, and although Mort knew that his protection only gave him so much time, he held fast to the thing's tongue and launched himself from its back, “Portal!” he yelled, hoping to whatever gods were out there that Namael was prepared to catch him and launch him again. If he was lucky, he'd sever the tongue when he passed through the portal before the acid burned through his blood and into his flesh.
-
“FOOLS! ALL OF THEM!” The thieve’s mind screamed out. Small grunts escaped him as he had to quickly duck down and grab hold of a crevice in the stumbling creature’s shell to stabilize himself. The least he could do against this thing was to provide an opportunity to kill it. And he’s done his part in it! Now it was just time for some big damn hero to end it for good!
The feline quickly looked up, and quickly spotted the tongue coming his way. It was by pure instinct that his body faded away quickly after spinning off in an acrobatic twist, propelling him into a strange dimension filled with only negative and positive space. The negative space… exerted some strange properties. He swam through it… but it resembled everything that light propagated through. With strange… things floating about of course. Natural for a good number of dimensions. And his portals? Were the shadows that he could drift to, that the light would allow him. A strange world as usual… but something that the feline grew used to.
It took a few seconds in this world to move to move through another portal, but in reality it was just nearly instanious. The feline’s body reappeared in the shade of a tree, with him continuing his dancing motion. His body disappeared once more, this time willingly for good measure to make sure he confused the creature if it decided to continue targeting him, and appeared in another location.
He stopped, both feet planted in the grass, and a hand on a nearby trunk to help stop himself in mid motion. His gaze resettled back on the action. His ears spinning around tracking the howling cries that responded to the beast’s anguish. Well that definitely can’t be good.
Neshar’s eyes soon settled on a dazed individual, whom was way to close to the creature for his own good. Seeing how the thief already drug himself into helping this group… he might as well continue with the sentiment. He sprung to action, quickly lounging out to Drake. The feline paid no mind to any protests he might have given him when he scooped him up onto his shoulder and quickly pulled him out of the combat to the cover a nearby tree… where he was kindly dropped onto his arse.
His masked face slowly turned away from the man, looking to the direction of the additional howls. If his eyes weren’t hint enouh at his unease, then his gloved hand tentatively reaching for a dagger is.
“COULD SOMEONE PLEASE STAB THAT THING IN THE NECK AND FINISH THIS?!”
-
Silas reeled as the beast struck him, taking a moment to regain his senses, which seemed to be refusing to cooperate; all he saw was the ground, flashing lights... giving his head a good shake, he looked back up, and saw the state the beast was in. a plate had been cracked, and a good chunk of his face was missing, red and enraged. the creature seemed to be just as mad, if Silas was a good judge of the emotions of beasts. Of course, with a beast like this, it was hard for one to tell if the beast was mad or just hunting. Nevertheless, Silas was back in action, charging towards the beast. He got there, dodging a swipe of the creature's paw on the way, mid way through a vicious, controlled slash at the creature's exposed flesh, when he saw Mort grab the thing's tongue, and, using his enhanced reflexes to react quickly, made a small step back, causing his sword to arc right through the creature's tongue.
However, some of the acid spray from doing such an act hit the vorsord right in the face, quickly singing off small spots of fur... and his left eye.
He let out an immense, primal roar, blindly stabbing his sword at the thing before backpedaling as quickly as he could to the rear lines, screaming curses and obscenities as he vainly tried to claw out the acid.
" BY MELELITILE'S TlTS, SOMEONE HELP ME!"
he screamed, gritting his teeth against the pain
-
It took Nemael only a second to open a rift for Mort to leap through, coming into existence shortly after Silas hacked into the beasts tongue. Giving a quick and silent thanks to the man for making their work easier, he opened another a few feet lower than the one prior. He knew nothing of Mort's stamina or how much damage he had sustained, so he came to the conclusion that it was better to err on the side of caution than accidentally get him killed by opening it a few feet too high. It would forever amaze him how much of a difference it made when it came to a situation that teetered between life and death.
Grinning beneath his cowl, he watched as Mort successfully came through the other side. Closing the rifts that had been opened, he prepared to open two more when two things suddenly occurred: The first happened to be the sight of Drake as he was being ferried across the battlefield on the shoulders of their newest and supposed ally, carried like a child and taken to a tree. Then he was dropped without a care on his ass. The second was the Vorsord dashing up to him, a garish wound marring half of his face from when the acidic blood had splashed onto his flesh. Although his attention immediately turned to Silas when he spotted him, he could not help but wince inwardly as he saw what little remained of the mans left eye and the patches of skin that continued to hiss.
"Spirits," he cursed aloud. Looking towards Mort, he shouted above the din of combat and the howling of the beasts the hound had summoned. "I can only hold these two rifts for so long!" As though on cue, a rift opened just to the left of the massive thing while another was created closer to himself, well out of the range of the creature.
At least for the time being.
Turning back to Silas, he noted the way the man clawed at his face and continued to utter unusual phrases he supposed were meant to be obscenities. Frowning ever so slightly, he tore the mans hand away and held it in place at his side so he wouldn't make it worse. Then with his left he began to gather what energy he could. Lifting it to the wound, his palm held out toward the patchwork of flesh and charred fur, opalescent light suddenly came into existence and began to move like tendrils, prodding at the damage. As it did, Nemael turned his face away from the carnage occurring over Silas' shoulder and instead settled his gaze on the barren earth, his hand wavering briefly as his breath came in short bursts. Channeling the energies of the Shift was exhausting enough when he was doing one task; holding two rifts open while simultaneously letting a spirit through to attempt to heal the Vorsord's wound?
His slowly stooping posture commented toward how much energy he was expending, but he knew he had to maintain both. Smiling thinly, he looked up to see the spirit pressing itself to Silas' face, almost appearing to consume half of his head. In truth, the creature had first attempted to numb the flesh so that Silas would no longer feel pain. Then it had turned itself into a glorified bandage, working to draw the acid out from his skin while simultaneously repairing what damage it could. However, its success would depend on the Vorsord's pain tolerance in the case its numbing effect had not entirely taken hold or began to wear off. With that task done, he let go of his wrist and allowed his hand to drop.
Gasping to breathe now, he used what strength he could to warn Mort. "I cannot hold it open any longer! I must close them now!" He waited a few seconds before the two rifts suddenly blinked out of existence. Nemael then fell to his knees and clasped his head on either side of his hood, eyes squeezed closed as he rocked forward and touched his masked muzzle to his knees. Without realizing it until now, he had expended far too much of his strength and energies with the numerous rifts, the blade he had summoned and the technique he had pulled off with one of the houndlings. Double that with the healing spirit he had drawn from the Shift, a task that was arduous enough without having spent anything in the first place, and then the portals he had to create for Mort to aid in killing the damned thing and then come back safely? It had drained him, but it was not the only thing that made him kneel in such a prone position.
Gripping his hood, it took nearly every ounce of his will not to tear it off just so he could breathe better. The rest went towards retaining his hold on this world and not the Shift. Groaning softly, the howl of the houndlings crashing into the clearing to take care of their ragtag mercenary group was completely lost on him, as was any response from Silas to the spirit and whether or not Mort had made it back to them before the portals closed.
-
The beast howled in pain in fury, the remainder of its tongue immediately pulling back into its maw. It threw its weight fully into a roll, intending to crush whatever creature was hitting it in the back, not knowing Mort had already been warped away. The force of the full weight of the creature finally outmatched Camille's magical restraint, and it went rolling across the ground haphazardly, taking out several small trees. Neshar and Drake were only barely out of its path as it went skidding past, the beasts' jaws chomping closed in a wild attempt to kill the duo, just a few feet behind their hasty retreat.
Consequently, Mort came down on empty space, landing where the beast had just been restrained not two seconds prior.
The cannon-like boom of magic sounded again as the beast tried to right itself, a fireball exploding against it's right leg. The force of the blast was enough to throw the thing right back into the dirt. Xavier continued pacing steadily towards the creature, each step increasing the effectiveness of his potent magic against the monster. Now he was pooling his power for long seconds between attacks, needing a much higher damage output against this colossal beast compared to its diminutive look-alikes.
Still, even as he closed the gap from safety into a realm of relative danger, his magic could not punch through the creature's hide. The hound wisely kept the exposed portion of its face turned away as another blast caught the left side of its head, plumes of flame drifting up into the sky as the explosive force expended itself uselessly against the creature's head. Damaging or not, Xavier refused to let the creature stand up, carefully aiming and timing his blasts so that each time the monster tried to roll or gets its feet beneath it, it would be fire-cannoned back to the ground.
"Someone with a blade, stick the **censor** thing!" He yelled out, his voice a throaty growl with the strain of using so much magic. He heard movement all around, though friend or foe...he dared not remove his attention from the Hound even for a moment. The hound scrambled wildly to try and get at the mage, who stood frustratingly just out of reach. It managed to swipe a paw at him, aiming to impale him with its wicked barbs, but the persistent creature just took a quick step backwards.
This exchange was short-lived, though, for as much as Xavier was trying to keep it pinned, the Hound had allies. From the brushline near the hybrid, another houndling pounced at him. He heard the growling creature coming, and was forced to expend his most recently charged fireball... right into the houndling's open maw. The creature had its gullet stuffed full of wildfire, bloating for a split second like an overfull balloon as the magic detonated inside of it, before it became no more than a shower of blood and airborne giblets.
A massive paw was all Xavier saw before he was suddenly blinded by a flash of pain and sent sailing across the clearing, clipping off the ground with enough force that he went skipping off into the brush on the opposite side of the battlefield, spinning wildly. Any mundane creature would surely have been slain by such a blow.
-
Drake felt himself get picked up as he was floundering around trying to get to his feet. He didn't really say anything during the travel figuring he didn't get that far when he got flung. Didn't even get a good look at who dragged him of too.
Once he reached the tree he managed to keep balanced while he was sitting. He kept shaking his head to regain his focus from before. By the time he could fight again the creature rolled passed him and he saw the gaping hole in the side of its head. He then heard someone call out to hit it there. Drake got up and smacked the last of the daze right out of him by smacking himself across his face. He the saw the houndlings that were attacking Xavier and acted. If they weren't felt with right now they were going to lies a comrade reluctantly he reached for the tree that was close to him touching the dark side of the tree. He muttered something in a old magic toung and shortly after it seemed like the shadow of the tree undulating and returning to normal. Drake had his shadow creature up his sleeve quite literally.
He then charged Xavier' just to see him go airborne. He then changed his target the creature and used his telekinesis to get close quickly like before but this time he tossed his Shadow creature to the wound. It would then try and bury itself into it's head by digging into the soft tissue.
-
Camille grunted and shuddered as he stopped his mass of material midair. A gust of wind roared beside him; followed by a slump and deep thud as Xavier fell into the brush. Retreating backward while his material faded out of existence again.. Camille panicked slightly in his mind. His stance wavered slightly as he watched Silas' pain.. Two houndlings jumped at him and he muffled a noise of surprise before a growl came from him, his cloak shifting around the animals and binding them. The silver material locking them tight as he dragged them near the wounded. First directing himself to Xavier; he kneeled beside him and literally squeezed the life from the houndlings; a raw crackling coming from their bodies as they whined and died in their bindings.. His hands ran over the hybrid's torso and sides as he directed the life force to heal him. Although he wasn't able to restore any magical energy, he healed enough to smack him awake. His strike would've echoed, had it not been for the ongoing fight..
Although rather tired and running low on stored life force, he grit his teeth and looked to the rest of his companions standing. His bindings released the houndlings; now shriveled and dried on the ground as he reformed his bindings into a small group of six hummingbirds. Although not actual hummingbirds; they had sharp beaks and flew above him like them.
"We need to end this." He spoke audibly, all the six hummingbirds flying into the open wound Drake had sent the best in. The jackal gestured his hands to push deeper. The beast audibly snarled and shifted; swinging about wildly and looking to the group in fury. Camille was locked in place as he tried to destroy the beast from the inside out.. His beads sapped of energy almost completely as he began to allocate some of his own. Costing more than earlier, he grunted lowly. "Quickly."
-
Mort came down hard on the ground – hard enough to make a divot in the soil where he landed with an exasperated “BASTARD!” following his miss, but wasted no time to get back to his feet, quick to move again in attempts to close the distance between himself and the creature as it rolled – at least one person had taken to listening to him. It had paid off for the group in the best way possible and despite his wobbles, the canine made his way to the beast with the intent of doing just as Xavier ordered – burying his axe into the creature.
Absently, he threw the thing's tongue – a secondary reaction to grabbing his axe from its holster and swung wide, guaranteeing to clip houndling that dared rush him as he moved toward the thing, raising his blade for a second blow, specifically aimed at the fleshy spot that he'd pummeled before on his first connection rather than in its face.
-
Surprisingly enough to the healer, the hybrid that had come sailing through the air seemed relatively unharmed aside from some bruising from the impact. His torn arm seemed to be the worst injury on him. As the energy flowed into him he snapped awake in time to block the slap with a reflexive slap of his wrist. Xavier was glaring up at the jackal, apparently disoriented and annoyed, but alive. After he realized what was happening his expression softened slightly. "Thanks, mate." He said with a gruff nod, pulling himself to his feet. His ribs were sore and his shoulder throbbed where he had taken the direct hit of the Hound's paw.... but the blow had done no permanent damage. The mage's supernatural toughness preventing most of that horrendous force from harming him.
As he looked towards the fight he grinned, seeing the creature whipping its head back and forth, some kind of shadow fiend clawing into the side of its face, little pinpricks of light also shining through splatters of blood. Xavier's paw settled on Camille's shoulder, a torrent of magical energy pouring through the healer's body. It took the edge off of the fatigue, the silver-white energy causing the man to glow faintly as it suffused him with its minor power. It would not do much in the long run, but hopefully it would allow the other caster to continue the offensive just that extra bit longer.
The bully's whirling axe took a bite out of the creature that had lunged at him, sending it sprawling across the ground as one of its legs was cut clear from its body. The whirling strike came around in a blow that truck true and bit deep, the heavy bladed weapon coming down on the crevice between its neck and shoulders. Blood spurted and the Hound seemed to lose a good portion of its life in that single blow, its whole front half dipping in an instinctive motion to try and mitigate the damage of the axe, to no avail. Mort would feel his blade bite into bone as it clipped the creatures spine, the hound shaking wildly and without control, falling onto its side and thrashing powerfully it a desperate attempt to save itself.
It was clear to all who saw the blow that the beast was finally dying, if not entirely dead just yet.
-
Feeling the axe connect caused another one of those toothy grins to spread across the bully's face as he dug into flesh and saw the creature writhing in pain – he'd have stopped, but again once he'd started there was no stopping until the mission was complete – there would be no doubt that they'd need evidence of the hound's death, and so he jerked the axe out from the thing's neck and took another swing downward, this time intending to disconnect its head from its body. As it were, he was still riding a pretty good rush of adrenaline brought on by the fight, injuries only kept from bleeding everywhere by the hardened blood that had clotted on his neck and hand. At the second hit, the thing's body went limp.“Third time's the charm,” he growled, taking another swing, blood spattering on his armor and face. He'd worry about the other houndling once he was done here, provided the others hadn't already taken care of it. With one leg and its pack leader down, Mort supposed it wouldn't be getting too far.
Reaching down, he grabbed up the creature's head and with a few careful twists, disconnected it accordingly from the remaining flesh. Even with the blood and gore that covered him, he held it up nose to nose to his face, giving it a mock snarl before he turned it for the others to see. Of course, even if his humor wasn't appreciated, it didn't stop him from speaking to the thing's head as if it were capable of listening, “Way to lose your head there, buddy,” he muttered, chuckling at his own awful joke just before he tucked the hound's head beneath his arm for safe keeping. Then, as if remembering that someone else might want a turn with the head, “Anyone want to carry the trophy?” he offered, wrenching his axe from the ground with a friendly smile – though perhaps it didn't look as friendly given the circumstances what with the amount of blood he was covered in.
-
The hummingbirds sent into the beast burst from its corpse shortly after its death. Camille approached what was left of the corpse and ran his hands along its bloodied side. The mage sapping what ever life energy he could from it hungrily; his hummingbirds began to reform into his beads as the corpse began to wither and dry beneath his hands. Licking his lips and toying with the drying fur, he chuckled slightly as he sapped whatever he could from the dead enemies around him. First, healing over the acid burns upon his legs, he stood up and looked to Silas. Although his eye was bandaged by Namael's spirit, he spoke quite confidently.
"You know, I'm sure you'd like to see from that eye, wouldn't you?" He chuckled, smirking and allowing a response from the dog before actually talking to him, much less removing the spirit on it. "I can heal that over, but Namael will have to remove that... Thing." He said in slight dissatisfaction at the spirit. Although not quite undead, the raw form of a soul was rather repulsive to the jackal. Not enough to impair him, but enough to make him look away. The jackal released the braids on his front and pulled up his cloak; the fabric sparkling lightly in the light of the sunset.
He turned his attention to the rest of the group. His eyes looked for serious wounds; although he skipped off of acid wounds. With plenty of those to go around, and the burns immediately cauterizing the wounds, he wasn't exactly concerned with them as much as broken bones and impairing qualities. He looked at the energy within his beads afterwords, smirking to himself; he felt quite full of magic and very strong at the moment. The beast gave him a type of magical surge in power; enough to ignore his fatigue.
-
And now…the houndlings seemed to have been handled. Along with the alpha of the group. The head had been claimed, and everyone is in some… er… pretty decent shape. The Displacer Thief’s eyes glanced around the group, taking small moment to remember each one of their apperances and faces… in the event that he ever had some explaining to do before they break his cover in town.
The feline quietly gave the group a wave of farewell before turning about and hustling his way through the brush. His body naturally dipped down with his powerful legs making long strides to keep himself in cover. His hands lightly grazed along the ground when he made short turns, accelerated, or to compensate for a sudden change in the terrain.
It wasn’t long before he had completely disappeared without much of a trace. And for the trained who wished to chase after him… he did leave a trail. But the feline was all too aware of this factor, having received training as a Sergal’s elite recon scout. He had followed the trail he had originally left. Leading anyone who wished to follow to an encampment of highway men. Dead highway men. Whom’s bodies and goods had been looted. Chests that were obviously once locked, had been opened up by a pair of deft hands.
After that the feline, danced through the shadows, breaking up his tracks with each graceful maneuver, till the the final spin and pose had left him standing in his traveling slave’s clothes on a well beaten path. Afterwards, he made his way to the town. He still needed to find a tender he could sell the goods he had picked up from those bandits.
-
Nemael murmured into the lightweight metal plates that donned his thighs, his masked face pressed against the cool material. Although he was still actively working on retaining his grip on this reality so that he may once more become a productive member, he was now able to shift his attention between it and what was going on around him.
The first thing he noted was Mort's voice, pride dripping from his words as he inquired whether or not someone wanted to carry the Hounds head. Then came what he perceived as an insult to the spirit he had summoned, the comment coming from the man he best equated to a necromancer. As he listened, a scowl came to permanently rest on his masked lips, teeth creating a distinct impression on the fabric. "I do not recommend insulting Shift spirits," he snapped. His response was slightly staggered when he his entire body shuddered. "They are not things, nor do they appreciate being spoken to as such."
Swallowing hard, he turned away from Camille in disgust. Though he was struggling to remain upright as his senses were assaulted by things outside of their perception, he managed to keep his spine straight and posture relatively rigid. However, an untapped fury burned in the pit of his stomach threatened to claw its way out, the emotions he felt exaggerated beyond their normal capacity due to the extenuating circumstances they were in. "She will leave as soon as possible. Whether that is after she has repaired the damage to his face or our hunter friend decides it is time for her to move on is up to them."
He clenched his left hand into a tight fist, the remaining portions of his gauntlets digging into the fabric that covered his palm. While the temptation to knock the cocky necromancer on his ass was certainly a thought that raged at his mind, he instead tried to concentrate on retaining any sense of calm. When he used his magic far beyond its normal limits and drew upon the wild energies of the Shift and its spirits, he was lucky if he did not accidentally tap into the wells of power that came from less savory entities; let alone retained his grip on reality.
Taking in another breath, he slowly looked from Mort to Xavier and Drake. He noted the man who had posed as an innocent disappearing into the underbrush as well and slowly shook his head. While he was certainly interested in learning if their magics were similar or even coalesced, he also knew that his companion Dragonhawk could find information on such things for him. Thus he bore no interest in following him and was in fact infuriated that he had pretended to be someone he was not, these feelings actually coming from him rather than the spirit he accidentally took energy from.
"Let us turn this in to the village then," he ground out. Turning toward its general direction, he slowly began to make the journey back. He did not wait to hear Camille's response if there was one or even to check and see if the others had begun to follow. Instead, Nemael just wanted the entire situation to be done and dealt with so that he could continue on his own path. Working with a group of strangers had turned out to be far more dangerous to his health than the damned hound and its bastard minions.
-
Xavier waved away Mort's offer with a look of amusement, and some small bit of disgust. He was covered in blood himself, splatters of the thick fluid already drying in an almost artistic pattern across the front of his chest, overcoat and pants. Despite the healing energy Camille had poured into him he kept his arm in the makeshift sling, figuring unless he needed to use it, there was no reason to risk it getting injured further.
Seeing the shadow-dancer run off he blinked once in confusion, wondering why the shifty rogue had felt the need to depart so suddenly. He instinctively checked his small pouch of gold coins, but found it was still there. "Hmm..." He murmered to himself, but his attention was quickly dragged away.
Khaki and Silas appeared to be making their own way back to town, the ranger leading the way for the injured Vorsord. Xavier guessed with an eye injury of that magnitude that the armored male may be out of commission for a few days at the very least. His tail flicked at that thought, not enjoying the thought that they had been injured so severely by a wild monster.
Nemael was already walking away, and Xavier motioned for the remaining group to follow along. "Alright boys, let's go get your silver." He spoke up, falling into stride a few paces behind the Shift-user. His thoughts slowly drifted, his keen perceptiveness finally falling back to his previous casual attitude. The entire region had been beset by rather fiendish creatures of late, which is precisely why he was here. A little known fact, and one Xavier had only discovered by years of working his trade, was that monsters of this caliber were drawn by magic. Not piddling wizardry, or even the powerful magics one might find in their current group. No, they were drawn by ancient, incredibly powerful magic. That was why ancient ruins were often populated by some of the more powerful monsters. They seem to be drawn to and feed off of the energy such items emit, a type of magical radiation. Over time this tended to not only nourish them, but supernaturally strengthen them as well. Whether that was the case here he was unsure, but he had come to this region because of widespread reports of powerful monsters roaming the land... and the Hound had been the strongest yet by far. "Good chance we're close..." He muttered to himself, contemplatively. His uninjured paw was cupping his chin gently, his webbed fingers stroking at the sleek fur of his muzzle.
He glanced up, studying Nemael's back for a moment before looking over his shoulder. Could this group be trusted? Sure they had united for a common cause, but for most it seemed that cause revolved around gold... and in Mort's case the promise of violence. Not exactly encouraging. Still, he may need them. The otter-wolf was powerful, but he was far from home.. and thus far from his resources. This would be a harrowing journey as a group, by himself he suspected it would be suicide. He smiled to himself, a humorless expression.
-
Drake was looking around the demolished battle field. That was some fight he hadn't face anything like that for a long while and was out of practice. Also the brute that fell from the sky didn't help. But nonetheless without the group ge would have probably perished. If the monsters in this region were this tough he would need a group to help him find the people he was looking for.
When he heard Xavier mention the money he paused. He had completely forgotten why he did this. He fitted the strap on his bag a little and started walking behind the group gauging who could be useful. At the very least he would like Xavier to travel with him. With him near the back it was pretty easy for Drake to approach him. He wasn't very fond of large groups or loud people so that would cut out most of the current group. "Hey. Xavier." He said to catch the hybrids attention.
-
Xavier's ears perked slightly when he heard his name, turning to look over his shoulder at the fox-coon. His expression was openly curious, wondering why the fellow had pulled him from his thoughts, and more-so why he had singled him out of the group. He read the expression on the young man's face, and smiled slightly, motioning for him to come walk beside him. He had a feeling Drake was older than he looked, his thin build and long hair made him look marginally younger to the otter-wolf.
"I can see you have something you'd like to ask, which suits me just fine. I have some questions for you as well." he said, speaking at a lower volume. Nemael or anyone else within a few paces could probably hear him easily, but those further off would likely only hear murmuring.
"First of all, what kind of magic are you using? For somebody so young you have quite an arsenal of spells." Xavier's tone was friendly, and his gait was casual, despite his injuries and the blood still soaking his fur. The treasure hunter was quite used to being banged up, though admittedly his arm was in pretty bad shape this time around. His cheery mood seemed to be impervious to dampening, however.
-
“Tough crowd,” Mort muttered, tucking the head beneath his arm, taking note of the disappearing rogue with mild interest. At the very least now he knew that he'd be getting his fair share of silver, perhaps even more given how the crowd was dispersing since he had the evidence of the hound's death in his hands. Following everyone's lead, he began to make his way to town with the others, catching up with Nemael in particular. “Nice thinkin' back there,” he huffed with a grin. Despite his durability, the bully was sore in more spots than he cared to admit along with the injuries he had on his hands and neck. It seemed to show in the way he carried himself – a bit more sluggish than before due to exhaustion. “I think you and I'll be good for one another, yeah?” He figured since the other seemed content to chat, he may as well give it a shot and Nemael seemed to be the only one interested in reciprocating.
-
Startled from his idle thoughts and the marginal attention he had been giving to the conversing duo walking a few paces back, his first thought was to bristle and snap at the sudden intrusion. However, once he realized it was Mort and not the person he initially suspected, a small grin sneaked its way across his muzzle. "Thanks," he said with a soft chuckle. "Not only could it literally have not been done without you, I'm glad you had the sense to strike it where the spine and neck joined, rather than where I initially suggested." He paused. "I must also thank you for saving my life, whether or not it was indirectly. If you had not thrown that houndling, I am fairly certain I would be in a similar state to that hunter."
Glancing back over his shoulder towards Xavier, Drake and Camille, his countenance shifted from stiff to slightly more relaxed. While the effects of drawing on another spirits energy was finally beginning to wear off, removing the uncharacteristic anger and wild thoughts that had flared and in turn been directed towards the necromancer, he still felt physically and emotionally exhausted. Case in point, he had failed to adjust his hood like he had been obsessively doing earlier, the cloth beginning to slip away and reveal the black markings around his eyes and forehead. Stretching his wings only exacerbated the issue while he listened to Mort's next comment. "I am... actually inclined to agree. Typically I detest working with anyone, regardless if it would be foolish to go at the task alone." He cocked his head to the right, purple and pink eyes narrowing as he thought. "Too troublesome and most often not worth the effort put in. Plus I am not entirely one for conversation," he said, laughing airily. He understood quite well that his continued chatter only worked to point towards the opposite of what he was conveying. "However, I think you and this group are worth sticking around for. As unfortunate as that may make me sound."
Again that ghost of a smirk passed across his lips. Just as it began to fade, he suddenly changed the subject of their conversation. Curiosity had been gnawing at him since he had first seen the fellow. "Are you a spirit of the Shift?" He turned ever so slightly and waved at the spaded tail that whipped behind the man. "Or a realm I may not know of?"
-
Drake was caught off gaurd with the sudden turn of focus for the conversation. But it was a topic center could talk for ages about without even realizing dispite his quiet demeanor. Still though he rubbed the back of his neck as he formulated his words because he didn't want to bore the man. "Well... currently i have fire, summoning, illusion, plain, and a small amount of healing. But my arsenal is always changing because I'm a spell crafter." He said ready to be bombarded with another series of questions.
-
Camille smirked a bit as the one he'd protected with a shield just as easily disappeared into the darkness. Maybe next time, I'll save myself the energy. He thought to himself as he felt the person get out of his range and stop contributing to his resource. People who disappeared so easily weren't worth the follow, he just shrugged a bit and his ears perked as Drake listed everything he could do.
"Jack of all trades, master of none, I see." He chuckled toward Drake, his narrow eyes upon him while the group inquired of him. Although he statement was slightly hypocritical, due to the fact that he himself had far from mastered anything himself, he mostly said it to show that he was still present. The jackal then kept quiet, having little questions for him. His gaze shifted towards Namael and the others, smirking wryly while his mind wandered.
He didn't really care for spirits. His power was bound by social alliance and raw life. By such, it'd be easy for him to take such things as spirits and life for granted. Even if the well dried, there would always be another source to find and harvest. He grunted and followed around the back, tying up his hair tiredly and idly healing over his slight burns. As his power mostly benefited those around him, the trade was immediately complete.
However, he did feel slightly less powerful than initially, caused by Namael's annoyance of him. He was still contributing to an alliance, however less than the others who had less of an opinion on the jackal.
-
“Not a problem.” The bully replied with a grin. Had his hands not have been full, he likely would have struck a prideful pose – not that he needed more compliments to stroke his ego. Even with his current soreness, the few words were good enough to make him raring to go once more. He was a heavy hitter and proudly so, if that hadn't been obvious with how willing he was to jump into the fray.
He hardly paid attention to anyone else as Nemael spoke with him, mostly due to the fact that they hadn't shown any interest in him, even when he tried to be personable. He wasn't offended so much as he didn't see a reason to continue putting effort into something that was bearing no results. Eyes running along Nemael's features, he gave a small smirk. “We did play well together with minimal infighting. I can stick around so long as that continues. I don't see that as unfortunate so much as I see it more of an opportunity for extra coin. More cooperation means bigger things to chase, bigger things means more pay.” Again his tail whipped back and forth, almost anxiously.
At the change of subject, Mort couldn't help but laugh. “A spirit's being awfully generous, don't you think?” The bully arched a brow with one of those lopsided grins, honestly amused at the assumption, even if it wasn't far from the mark. Surely the other had to have some idea about his nature if he asked that much. “I guess in a manner of speaking I am, but not like people think when they think of spirits.” He pat the hound's head as he spoke, “I was a collector of sorts. But yes, I don't originate from this plane, if that's what you're asking.” The canine seemed reluctant to divulge the entirety of his nature, if not just because of how it was stigmatized – even if it was for good reason. Where he was from, things like the hound they took down was not unusual.
-
Drake smirked at the remark. He didn't name one specific type of magic because well it was counter magic. Being in a group mostly comprised of mages that would cause friction with the group especially this early. "I'm actually a master of all my trades and breaking new ground quickly." He said with confidence. Sure he wasn't a complete master but what he did have he perfected. But then this all comes back down to his ability to store mana. Without a good source he would simply dry up in a matter of minutes. But with a good source he could basically use his spells indefinitely. He then waited for any other remarks or questions.
-
“ Once this assignment is done, I have another for you on such short notice. An informant had brought me a curious bit of information. Usually I’d have these vermin exterminated on sight, but this one seemed to have to brought me something interesting. Investigate this. If no merit has been brought from it, then kill the bastard for wasting my time. You are free to do what you see fit with this if something does come up from it. I’ll trust your judgement. Remember, Complacency is worse than not an option.”
That… strange exert echoed in Neshar’s mind. His mistress was usually more direct than this. She never bothered with encryption. She couldn’t even care if the messenger bird had been shot down with the notes read. If someone wanted it, then no tide or hell would stop them from getting that message. But this… this didn’t seem like her. Something genuinely had her curious. Maybe worried? Heh – if that was even possible for the general.
Although… there were something could easily confirm it. “I’ll trust your judgement.” A sign that his mistress was really giving him full authority on this one. “Complacency is worse than not an option.” She means that he better be sure what he’s doing with - whatever it is- is something he was fully sure of was the best option. Something he really only had to do once. So what could potentially be so bad? That… worried the thief. The last time he had received those code words, he had to wade through both a metaphorical and maybe literal hell, while sneaking past and killing a few cultist and demons… and completely avoiding a succubus of all things. Good thing he’s not easily lured by the female crowd… or he might not have made it through that. THe relic he recovered? He decided to destroy it. Couldn't so he comissioned for a binder from an alchemist. Stuck it to the bottom of a merchant ship. Got information about it's route. Gave the information to pirates with the pay being to let him ride it. Waited for them to pilage it to make sure they didn't find it. Paid them to sink the ship, and bring him back to port. Now the relic is still glued to the bottom of the ship, and drifting indefinitely miles below the surface. Where the water would kill a man by crushing him. So when he told his mistress the report. He merely got hit with a heart breaking melodramatic "Good enough." The things he'd do to please her... but at least the bit with the pirates gave "The Displacer Thief" more weight in the underworld. The name is starting to reach the point of being revered by low-level thieving crews and gangs, and even honored by professionals crews and guilds. Annnnnd for some reason marked by assassins.
And now he’s going through this? Heck she made him pay for that stupid bird thing’s information! The same information she got! Talk about being secretive... he had to locate the bird himself!
Neshar sighed… his thoughts continuing to wonder. He was covered in some tattered traveling robes he had purchased off of a wandering vagabond a kilometer or so out of town. He was seated on the ground, with his back against a tavern wall. His arms wrapped around his knees, and his head down with the hood up. His keen eyes searching the feet of the wondering life. The loot he had picked up from the highway men were already sold. And he was fortunate that they managed to rob a merchant or something. Salts, spices and silk can make a pretty hefty profit if you know your way around the market.
“From a thief… to a impromptu source hunter just like that. Alright… where to begin. That… must have been the strong monster that Nevran was talking about,” The feline sighed softly to himself. “Looked like an axehound. Too big though. And some heavy differences. But… it’s too big to stay in the woods. It’s an apex predator, and too large for small things to feed it. So it’s drawn to something. Heavy too, able to knock over trees with no effort. Damaged trees are limited, so it’s hiding out somewhere. A dungeon or a cave. I’ll either need some history, legends, or someone who knows the area. Hunters or kids if this town let them run around.”
His eyes sifted through the many wondering shoes. “Everyone’s either barefooted, or wearing sandals or… basic shoes. None of these are travelers. Shoes are all dirty… so I’m in the lower class district. It’s a start. It’ll mean I’ll find stories or hunters.”
But then his eyes shifted upwards. Noticing the bounty with a heafty price. “Looks like I won’t have to worry about that group then. They were just mercenaries looking for a quick buck. Price is high. Offering 10 acres of land, so he must be the lord. I’ll have to pay his house a visit then. Might have some useful information.”
He leaned back slowly. Now keeping his head down. "Hmm... that otter though..." He danced around in his memory. The otter was... well flamboyantly dressed if anything. Either he was higher class, or he came a LOOONG ways just for some coin. A trip too costly for a parcel of land or 400 silver coins.
-
Reaching up and removing the cloth that typically obscured his face, he carefully tucked it into one of his pockets as he listened to Mort talk. The idea of being paid for larger bounties thanks to more substantial groups that worked well together was not necessarily appealing to him, primarily when it came to being given currency in exchange for services rendered. While he may not be a fan of people in general, his attitude towards payment in various currencies was even more dire. He vastly preferred an equal trade, or at the very least what the person who placed the bounty in the first place could afford to give. After all, he would take a handful of herbs and useful information over coin any day, though he also understood he was likely only one of a few people who shared this sentiment. Perhaps it was due to his work with the spirits and their realm, making him shy away from the trappings of man even if he technically was one. He shook his head.
"If you consider a universal truth generous, I worry for you." This statement was followed by a low chuckle and dip of the head, his muzzle creasing into a grin that decided to take permanent residence for the time being. "If I have learned anything from my interactions with them, it is that perception changes everything."
Tugging on the remainder of his gauntlets, he let his fingers idly play across the engraved metal. "Which I assume requires a bit of explanation," he laughed. "I mean to say that what one person may consider... let us say unholy, another could see as benevolent. The being I summoned from the Shift earlier to aid our hunter? Those who have interacted with her prior thought she was a demonic creature meant for war. Because of this idea they held, she changed to become what they perceived her to be and nearly killed for their cause. Yet when I summoned her, she was careful, cautious and generous with her energy. She did everything she could to heal our hunter."
Turning his gaze from Mort to the sky, he shrugged slightly. "I understand this is not remotely a universal law. However, even with my own sordid history and prior misconceptions when it came to spirits, I came to realize that how we label them changes everything. A being of pure love could easily turn to one of hatred or vice versa, just as any other person in this world can, albeit instantaneous in some cases rather than over time. Thus I have chosen to see entities outside of this specific realm simply as spirits. To call them otherwise is a disservice to who they are, though if they wish to be referred to as a demon of pride, so be it. I can also readily recognize that my thoughts on the matter differs from the majority and will likely get me killed."
Nibbling on his lower lip, he could not decide if he had said too much. As though to follow this thought and change tact, he suddenly responded to Mort's commentary on his past. "A collector and not of the Ereworld." He cocked his head to the right. "While I will not pry further, thank you for sating my curiosity."
-
The jackal's ears twitched as Namael spoke. As per normal, he waited for a bit for everyone to finish before he spoke. He kept the back of the train; yet looked to Namael with his eyes slightly narrowed. Not quite in a malevolent manner, although more focused upon the dark figure.
"Well, if such a risk is existent.." He smirked, toying with his own beads in his hands. "Why not let me heal over the wounds; from now on. Surely such a request drained quite an unnecessary amount from you, my friend.." He chuckled, letting his gaze shift to the other members of the party. "All we need is you to keep killing, and I can heal over any petty scratch or severe lacerations you can manage to get.. As long as you don't die on me." His tone was slightly condescending and a bit menacing, although honest none the less. "My skills are mainly in healing, that's what I've previously excelled in. Restraints and shields are, as we've seen, rather unrefined compared to what I know I can do for wounds."
As they approached the town, Camille hummed to himself between conversation. He hadn't really known about the cash reward, and had no real need for it. In fact, the most he'd really left the court for had been to further his abilities, and to get the life force required to do so. While hanging around this group, he was growing already from the first day.. And as long as they tackled more entities, he'd have all the life he needed at his dispense, without having to force anymore death himself.
The jackal held his trademark smirk as they walked, although quietly as his own mind wandered. Even as the group's outlier, he held more power than he had held in the courts. Had it not been for his personality, he couldnt help but feel that he'd be much more powerful as a mage. Ambition was filling his mind, although frustration at the natural terms of his magic began to arise within his mind.
-
"That's quite a claim." Xavier replied to the other hybrid, raising a brow. "Few can claim to be masterful of any kind of magic, because magic is chaotic by definition." He quipped, looking at the mage for some type of clarification or explanation as to HOW exactly he had gotten to be such a potent spellcaster.
"Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt your skills, I've seen you fight." He added, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a smirk. "But mastery over magic may be a bit lofty of a claim."
He was facing Drake, but the fox-coon might notice that one of Xavier's ears was tilted slightly away from him, keeping tabs on what the others were saying. Quite a promising group of individuals, but the otter-wolf was already detecting the hints of friction. That was to be expected, it was not often such powerful individuals gathered together, and people with power were often heavily entrenched in their morals and personal convictions. Empathy typically took sidebar. With that thought in mind, Xavier bit his tongue when he would have otherwise attempted to diffuse the situation, knowing he had no authority over these men.
The town became visible in the distance as they walked, not having traveled terribly far to begin with, it stood to reason the return trip would be equally as quick. He did speak up then, to the group as a whole.
"So I gather most of us don't mind continuing to work together for the time being?" He paused in case anyone wished to disagree, then smiled warmly. "Good, I rather like you lot. I'm staying in the tavern tonight, so why don't we all meet up there to discuss our next course of action. I think we've all had quite enough action for today..." He trailed off, chuckled to himself and turned back to Drake.
"By the way, was there something you wanted to ask me?"
-
“Well, I like your point of view, I suppose, but there's no changing what I am.” The bully shook his head. “Even if you call me a spirit, there's no use hiding my nature, and it's not so much pride as it is acceptance. I've come to accept what I am instead of pretending.” His voice was gruff, but not unwelcoming – it was just simply the subject at hand that made him feel a little defensive, even when others intended well. His tail began to whip accordingly before settling to curling around his own waist to stay put and he adjusted the head in his arm, averting his eyes to their surroundings, as if he expected another hound to jump from the brush. “I'd rather someone think like you before they go around assuming, I guess.” Though, again, his tone seemed rather unsure.
By the time the town came into view, Mort had taken the liberty of moving toward the front of the group, still holding that head proudly despite the gore he was covered in. At Xavier's questions, he merely glanced around the group to gauge reactions before he spoke. He could decide later, he supposed, as there wasn't much else for him to do aside from wander, and another drink at the tavern seemed right up his alley. Still, there were more important things to attend to, and he took a step forward to address them after Xavier's suggestion“Anyone going to collect with me or are you putting your faith in me to return with your pay?” It wasn't meant to be condescending, though it may have come out sounding that way – if anything he would be surprised that someone was so easily trusting of a stranger.
-
Nemael chuckled at the bulls response and bowed his head, acquiescing to Mort's point. He understood quite well that his view on the matter differed wildly from the majority and even from some of the spirits he had run into, though he also knew better than to assume every being followed the same abstract rules. "My apologies for any offense," he murmured with a slight lilt to his voice, noting the change in Mort's tone. "I did not mean to suggest it was a way of hiding who or what you are."
Considering what to say next, it was then that Camille spoke and all pretense of courtesy fell away. His posture grew rigid with every word uttered and his tail became dangerously still, the bladed tip held low. Perhaps it was how the necromancer managed to sound borderline condescending that allowed the man to worm his way beneath Nemael's skin. Or maybe it was the fact that it seemed as though he purposefully chose his words to sting a persons ego, a feat that he was beginning to feel an ever growing disdain for.
Regardless of what it may be, his jaw audibly popped as his muscles tensed and molars clamped down, barely missing his chipped tongue. He was about to make a scathing remark, one that he would joyfully hiss through his teeth in an ever growing anger, when the realization that they were back in the village suddenly hit. "Spirits prevent me from mauling this man," he ground out in an incredibly low voice.
Trying to bring himself back to a relative calm, he waited for each person to finish speaking before even considering making an attempt to have his voice heard. "After we discuss our next course of action in the tavern, I will be momentarily... absent." Cocking his head to the left, he chose not to elaborate. There was little reason to tell them what he did in his own time, seeing as it would not impact anyone in any conceivably significant way. "As for the reward, feel free to give my cut to the rest or take it yourself; I have no need for it."
-
Drake listened to Xavier he understood what he was saying but didn't comment. There wasn't anything obvious on him to say how good he was besides the guild cowl and the master's tome he carried which he used to craft spells. "I guess I can understand why you don't think so. But i can confidently say that i have mastered what i do know. That sound good to you?" He said.
But Xavier spoke to the group and not him. And when he spoke Drake gat his awnser. Once that was all over and Xavier faced Drake he simply said. "You kinda already answered my question."
He then heard Mort call out for people to collect the reward. "Wait for me Mort." He said as he followed the bully. The only reason why he needed the coin was so he could rest considerably tonight.
-
Xavier simply smiled at the other hybrid when he replied, and watched him for a moment as he moved over to where Mort was standing. The otter-wolf briefly considered joining them, but then brushed off the notion with a wave of his paw. "I'll be staying here I think, I trust you to return with the coin." He spoke up, turning to regard Camille and Nemael with maybe a hint more than a casual glance. What he failed to mention was that he also did not particularly need the coin, but he was not so wealthy as to forfeit his share entirely. He had only brought some traveling money with himself, so if they required any supplies further down the road, the silver would certainly come in handy.
"As for you two, if you're not going to accompany our friend here-" He said, inclining his head towards the bully. "-then I would ask that you come with me to the tavern. I need, a drink, and I would greatly appreciate being able to recover the use of my arm." he looked down at himself, still soaking in drying blood and with his arm still in the sling made by his overcoat. Surprisingly, without the colorful garment, he was actually rather plain-looking. His bare fur was a simple milk-chocolate brown where it wasn't darkened by blood splatter, making the previously bright-colored male appear somewhat plain. His hair was another matter, but without the contrast to the blue of his coat it seemed far more mundane of a thing.
"If neither of you have any energy left then I can certainly wait a day or so.... I doubt any healers in this little town could match up." Sure, he could heal himself, but with a wound that severe it would take weeks of time that he didn't have, and drain large portions of his strength in the process. Xavier's supportive magic was admittedly very shoddy for healing, meant more to be used as a strengthening and shielding power. Plus, of the two of his magics, that was the newer. Thus his skill in using it was far less refined.
-
"Keep the cash." He spoke towards Mort.. The jackal smirking to himself as Namael announced his planned absence.. What a shame. A flick of the tail as his eyes paced around the area around him mischievously. "Depending on how many are in the pub, I should be able to tend to your wound just fine." He tilted his head as he looked at Xavier for the first time. Well, the first that wasn't just a slight glance. The only one there dressed in a manner similar to his, although Xavier's was much more flamboyant and noticeable; with the coat on. Without it, Camille now took that reward to himself.. Even with the dark colorations.
He didn't say another word to Namael or Mort, figuring that he'd caused enough trouble with the group to satisfy himself for a bit. His intentions weren't exactly to start trouble, but the jackal just had a tendency of making it. His piercing gaze fell quickly upon the Hybrid's wound. A slight hum from Camille as he then pocketed his hands and watched the village around him. The people nearby made him flourish with an amount of energy he wasn't used to.
Having the well of the beasts' life force combined with the access of links around him made the jackal feel as if he was on a heavy upper. Due to the severity of Xavier's wound, he'd lose quite a bit of the surplus energy healing it, although the jackal wasn't fully aware of this yet. Riding his buzz in pure enjoyment, now, he was left with an idle smirk.
-
The feline stalked through the interior of the village lord’s home. Sure, there was still plenty of daylight availible outside. But most importantly, the guards were more or less careless about what they were doing. It’d take a pretty ballsy thief to try and commit a heist in broad daylight. Or… a particularly smart one.
The feline had shifted between rooms and hallways. Ducking beneath tables, behind furniture, and finally wondering about in the rafters. He easily avoided the occasional patrolling guard, and the more so common servant. But… these little hindrances did give Neshar quite a bit of information. After noticing some strange behaviors in the way they cleaned, he began to slowly tail each and everyone of them. Monitoring their every move.
“There are some places no one’s allowed to enter it seems….” The feline thought to himself. He approached a door that a servant had ignored, and slowly teased it’s handle. Locked. It was not a problem however, just a minor set back. The feline already had pulled out his picks and had the door open in a mere heartbeat. He quickly slipped inside, and softly closed the door behind himself. His fingers quickly re-locked the door from the other side before he finally turned around to get a look at the room he was in.
The room was a study. But it was in no way a testament to a scholars study. A typical one for a low class lord. Books. Shelves. A missing fireplace. But… there were a few peculiar details about it. Strange ones that had a tell tale story about what was possibly happening in the room. And the nature of the lord that the village's civilians probably never saw.
The thief slowly trailed through the room. His eyes drifting down to a few books and sheets of paper. noting how clean they were. But when his eyes drifted in other places… he took note of the dust. Some of it had built up… and a number of areas had been disturbed before.
“Heh... Yeeaah… too lazy to clean up after himself…” he murmured softly to himself. His eyes slowly dipping down to the foot prints on the floor. “Keeps the servants out though. He must have something to hide.” His eyes soon shifted to some scuffs on the ground near a bookshelf. The dust was pushed to the side in a variety of ways. And from the looks of it… someone had been crouching each time he visited… symbolized by odd oblong patches of cleared dust.
“Paranoid… “ Neshar hummed to himself quietly, lowering himself into a crouch. His eyes finding most disturbed areas on the shelf. It was the lowest portion of the shelf. Connected directly to the baseboards used to help support it. The board was covered in flakes of dust that had been disturbed by repeated rubbing. All along the board it seems. None of them looked as if he was feeling for something specific. Annd… the side boards also seemed to have a number of light scratches that caught in the light.
Neshar sighed and shook his head. He lifted against the bottom shelf, and quickly discovered that it came right up. “Paranoia’s good if you got something to hide. But a huge problem when it’s a physical secret… what are you hiding…”
-
(Okay, so, I did not remotely expect Nemael to respond so negatively to your character from only a few interactions, Cyril! However, I did try to make it known as to why he is having such a strong reaction and why he is pissing him off from the get-go, so I apologize if that was rambled on for a bit too long. I'm also exhausted, so that could possibly explain why it may be longer than necessary, ahahhh... ah. Farore).
Nemael failed to hide the scowl that grew as Camille spoke once more, his words directed toward Xavier when the curious hybrid had announced his need for healing. The distaste he felt was growing ever steadily and he was beginning to understand the exact reasons as to why.
It was not that the man seemed to prod at Nemael's weaker points or even the fact he seemed rather dismissive of certain strengths. It all boiled down to how cock-sure he was and how desperately Nemael wanted to put him in his place. Years of experiencing men with his attitude on the road that eventually got themselves killed was certainly one, but it was relatively minor at best. The main irritant was that he had lived in a city where all Kuar acted in a similar manner towards those who were not of their race, waxing his tolerance into a new level of thin.
He bit his tongue hard enough to draw cobalt-colored blood that stained the fur just at the inner edge of his muzzle. "Let us go and speak of this plan," he hissed. Lifting a hand and wiping away the minuscule amount that had been drawn from his mouth, he abruptly turned away from Camille and Xavier and marched his way to the tavern. He knew he would need to learn to control his temper around men like the necromancer. However, this issue was tempted by a distinct bias: Having interacted almost solely with spirits of the Shift and Dragonhawk after his run-ins with aforementioned adventurers and tasteless Kuar, he was not entirely sure how best to deal with the situation.
Throw him into the depths of hell and he would calmly make his way out with whatever was at his disposal. Pit him against a man that was cock and bull, with some capability to back up their testing words? He would sooner feed them to a ravenous hyena rather than even consider the possibility they may be right. Which, he had to admit, was already a sorely tempting idea. At the same time, Nemael knew he needed to get over his immediate prejudice. Just because the necromancer presented himself in a similar light to the others, it did not mean he was necessarily exactly like them.
Or, rather, that was what he optimistically prayed was true. He also desperately wished he did not respond to arrogance in such a negative manner, wanting to say it was a pet peeve when it was actually something he never had a single good experience with. Too many dead or irrevocably injured to allow him to put up with it.
Storming up to the taverns doors, he pushed his way inside and immediately walked up to the bar and its tender. Peering at the woman behind the counter, he said nothing and instead took a seat, waiting for Xavier and Camille to eventually follow. He had no idea whether or not the necromancer would choose to heal him outside or if he would wait for them to be in a more private area and he did not necessarily mind which path he took. He would simply idle by until the time came for discussion, choosing not to order a drink until they both arrived.
-
As Neshar detached the shelving, a small nook would become revealed. Contained within, rather than treasure as he may have hoped, was simply a neatly kept bundle of letters, a pen knife, and some strange bronze sphere about the size of an apple. The shuffling outside the room slowly grew louder as another one of the staff bustled past, their footsteps receding into the distance after a tense few seconds.
The sphere seemed to be a mundane object, inert of any magic, with what one may guess to be some sort of unusual keyhole punched into one side. The letters, if quickly glanced over, were correspondences sent to and from Lord Mayheu, the Lord of the villa he was now raiding and somebody named (or possible aliased) as Forjmeir. They would need some proper reading to decipher, as most of the letters are written cryptically and reveal little at a glance.
-----------
Xavier watched Nemael veritably storm off with a look of mild confusion, edged with concern. That was never a good sign for a fledgling alliance, tensions must be higher than he had thought, at least where that peculiar fellow was involved. He looked back to Camille and just shrugged helplessly.
"I've yet to quite figure him out." he said casually when the other was out of earshot. "However, I am grateful for the help... from both of you." He added, his gaze shifting to where Mort and Drake had moved some distance away. They had gathered quite a group in such a short amount of time, and he suspected that would accrue its own problems in due time, interpersonal issues not the least of which.
He took a moment to size up the Jackal now that he had seen him in action, noting the strange beads that seemed to shift in the light. Perhaps Camille was not so abrasive to Xavier's sensibilities because he was used to the boasting confidence, an attitude often held by sailors and adventurers, the two types of people he was around most often. The healer was certainly a handy one to have around, and while Xavier detected that bravado may be a hint to some other traits, he was far from one to judge.
In a way, he also could see himself getting along well with Nemael, if he could get the pensive fellow to talk to him. In what he had overheard of his conversation with Mort, both the bully and the shift-mage had personalities that ran much deeper than first appearances. That alone was an endearing quality for the hybrid, who had a tendency to shy away from one dimensional people.
He rolled his shoulder slowly, looking down at his injured arm, the throbbing pain drawing his thought back to the present situation. He began to untie his coat, the fabric falling loose. As it did, those of keen perception would notice that the coat seemed to be slowly lightening, the blood stains receding ever so slowly and revealing more and more clean fabric. It was a minor enchantment, but one that was invaluable to anyone in Xavier's line of work that wished to EVER look presentable for more than a few moments a day. Adventuring had never been described as a clean profession.
A fresh few drops of blood stained the vibrant blue as his arm shifted loose of the sling, and the hybrid, to his credit, showed no outward signs of the pain. The beasts teeth had done a number on him, though it seemed as though the acid had done far more. The tears into his flesh were deep, a few bits of skin hanging like ribbons along his fore-arm, the muscle clearly damaged... possibly even the bone. "I've felt worse, but i can't say that I've looked it." Xavier grumbled, his fingers on his injured arm twitching slightly, blood flowing in tiny rivulets from where the wound had not been cleanly sealed. A good bit of his flesh was seared as well, though from the self-inflicted firebolt or the beast's acid it was hard to tell. His whole arm glowed a very faint white, revealing that he had been pouring magic into his arm this entire time... possibly why he had not been writhing in pain the whole way back.
"You mentioned the tavern, do we need to be near it for your magic to work?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
-
"My tongue is my sharpest blade." He responded to Xavier's look. His statement was very matter of fact, not exactly regretful. His statement was far from incorrect; he was a charmer to some, and a serpent to others. At the rate he was going with the group, it seemed he was giving off much more of the serpent than the charmer.
The sharp temper and internal reactions of Namael did draw some amusement and plenty of curiosity from Camille, though. Even if the other was repulsed by the jackal, Camille was very interested in further communication with most he'd met that day, especially since his slight conversation had basically been him showing the negative parts of himself. Part of his family and something he internally blamed on his species was that, while Camille could talk well when given the opportunity, he wasn't good at calling attention to himself in a positive manner. Probably why the Aelius had chosen to keep by the political sidelines.. It wasn't something Camille had thought to actually delve into.
His attention turned back to Xander after his mind wandered a bit. He took off his cloak, and removed the coverings Xavier had placed. His eyes up at the hybrids as the fabric tightly wrapped and soothed over the wound. "You can stop using your energy, now.. I can bide the pain, but I need to be around people to heal such a severe wound fully; and with most of our group gone, the tavern is quite the ideal spot. But we can do this in the corner, of course.. We don't have to draw attention, I just need to.. Well, that's just how it works." He grumbled lowly as his hands gripped other parts of Xavier's arm and then his gaze looked over the rest of him.
The material over the hybrid felt like a cold gauze against him, and the hybrid was easily able to feel heat from his arm being pulled by the cloak; which the jackal had kept a grip on as the pair walked near the tavern. Very slow, but evidently occurring, Camille used the cloak to sample Xavier's life energy; mostly to assess how much the hybrid had to himself at the moment.
He would have to wait until they were around a larger mass of life to pour back the energy he had sampled, and to heal over the wound.
-
Neshar’s brows furrowed a bit as he sifted up the assortment of letters. A frown curled his lips as he quickly flicked through them. He quickly took note of the two names. Lord Mayheu, and Forjmeir. The last name doesn’t ring a bell, but at least the first one did give him a bit more information he could use to ask around town with if he so chose.
“It seems Lord Mayheau is a bit more careful than I thought…” Neshar murmured to himself, opening up one of the letters carefully. His eyes glanced over the writing, but he soon found himself being both amused and frustrated. “Heh, definitely paranoid. It’s no thieves cant, but I’d wager I can figure it out.”
The thief contemplated bagging the letters. But he hesitated for a moment. Stealing the orb would be one thing. But stealing letters would cue off a professional. The feline slowly raised a thumb to his lips, and began to think. In fact… just stealing one thing would set off a few too many alarms. But…. lifting that out of here in the middle of the day will be difficult. And the missing items would be way too hot to fence off. The feline sighed and decided to take a risk. At least this benefits him… if what he has is important there would be quite a fit thrown.
He quickly bagged both the letters and the bronze orb, before standing up. He purposely left the bottom shelf on the floor to hint to the lord of the intrusion. He was about to turn around and leave through a nearby window… till he spotted something interesting on the wall. A painting. It wasn’t his favored artist. But the craftsmanship on it looked quite amazing. He approached it carefully, examining it. Every stroke was made meticulously. An obvious attention of detail was taken, but each brush stroke still had an expressive quality behind it. There was a natural movement in it… but the feline didn’t have time to completely appreciate the work of art.
The sounds of distant footsteps was his only final hint that he was pushing his luck. And so… with a deft hand, he quickly lifted a razor from his vest and cut the painting free from it’s frame. He carefully rolled it up and slipped it away into a small bag. And out the window he went. He still had a particular otter… zombie… wolf thing to visit later.
---
Once again, dressed in his usual civilian get up… plus one vagabond's cloak Neshar stumbled through the tavern’s door aimlessly. His collar only partially exposed, on purpose. Most of it’s patrons didn’t pay him any mind. And those who did only bothered to spare a glance.
He gestured over the owner of the establishment, and waited for her to come close. When she did, the feline pulled her close. A sly but friendly grin on his maw.
“There are two gents outside. A colorful otter, and an Anu whom looks like he’s got a silver tongue. Send em to straight to a room, my good madam,” The feline hummed in a hushed tone. His hand moved to clasp her’s, playfully handing over a hefty bag of coins. A hefty bribe.
The woman gave the feline a skeptical look.
“No worries! I’m not a stabby person!” the feline mused with a broader grin.
“What room?”
“A room with a window facing north, and no other direction!”
The feline watched her look at him with a…. puzzled look. But she got the message and nodded. She left, leaving him be… where he just slumped onto the table like a tired oaf.
-
Xavier nodded, and the magic he was summoning to heal his arm faded slowly. It went against his instincts to allow a wound that serious to go without aide, but he trusted Camille enough that he did not fear this to be a ruse, and he knew the man was good on his word that he could keep the pain in check. Xavier did not consider himself weak by any means, but a wound such as that with no magical numbing or healing actively working on it would likely incapacitate him from pain alone. As it were, during the very short transition he grit his teeth together as the pain flared slightly, only to be immediately dampened again.
He gave the jackal a smile, suddenly seeming much more tired and mortal than he had appeared just seconds ago. Apparently maintaining that level of healing magic had nearly exhausted him. No wonder, too, after such a dramatic fight not an hour prior. He pushed open the door of the bar with his good arm, allowing the other male to walk in before him, making sure not to break contact with that cloak... which was certainly exhibiting some sort of magical properties.
"You don't need to fully heal that wound if it would drain you too much. Just do what you can and I will tend to it over the next day or two to make sure it heals right." He mentioned, talking about it as casually as one might discuss dinner plans. Speaking of... "Miss, a room for myself, two ales and two of whatever you have to eat tonight." he said, motioning to Camille. "Just so I don't feel TOO indebted to you." The hybrid explained as the woman, who seemed entirely fed up with her job, went to fetch the order.
-
Once they were in the middle of the tavern and Xavier was speaking to the barmaid, Camille gripped the cloak as it visibly shrouded itself in the arm in darkness. The jackal almost drooled from the peak of energy before he transferred in a fair amount to heal it.. His ears perked as he almost dropped the hybrid's arm; shaking his head and regripping it. The energy he'd sampled from the hybrid, once compared to the raw life force of the room around him, felt synthetic, but not quite in the way that an undead would. The dark covered his arm for a good moment as he partially ignored Xavier and the barmaid. Xavier wouldn't feel pain just yet, but he would feel the tugging and pushing of energy from and to his arm.
In a court, it was much easier to heal in front of large densities of people. But then again, they understood everything Camille was doing. The random strangers probably didn't feel great about seeing magic take place within the bar, but it would happen regardless. After a few minutes, the light returned to the area where Xavier's arm was, a sharp pain ran through it as Camille removed his cloak and replaced it over himself.. Leaving behind the arm as it was before the battle. The sharp pain rang for a good second before fading. Camille looked towards the barmaid. "Add on a bottle of brandy."
With his battery no longer supercharged; Camille felt a crash and grunted lowly, visibly a lot less playful than before.
The woman crossed her arms impatiently at the pair.
"What a flamboyant pair you are. Last room on the left," She then moved to grab a bottle as Camille waited a bit demandingly, also filling the two glasses of ale. Camille's eyes gazed around the tavern as she spoke, "Anu and mixes aren't here often, best not cause any trouble." She warned, the jackal's eyes narrowing upon her.
"Don't use that term." He took the bottle and reached down his own robe; yanking out a few coins and slamming them upon the counter in a rather temperamental manner. The slam was audible, however was far from the loudest noise in the tavern as jackal took his glass and bottle of brandy. He looked to Xavier, and then noticed Namael on the other end of the bar. "You should tell him, I'm going to the room and am hopefully getting plastered.. When you follow, I have a few questions for you."
Camille walked to the room the barmaid had pointed out earlier, opening the door and finding a lump on the table. He groaned lowly and shut the door, noticing there was only one bed and chair. He looked to the familiar lump and grunted while undoing the bottle and proceeding to drink down a fair amount; washing it down with some ale. "So, to what do we owe the reacquaintance?" He said rather crankily, looking at Neshar and taking a seat on the chair, continuing to take idle sips of the brandy from the bottle. "It's better to not... Mysteriously disappear after a battle."
-
Neshar stirred a bit when he heard the door open. His eyes cracked open, letting in a small amount of filtered lamplight before he slowly rose. His arms streatching out as he yawned. Soon they dropped, and he looked at the Anu with a dull gaze. His tongue flicking across his lips for just a brief moment.
He kept the stare for a few more seconds… till his awareness finally snapped back in place. The feline’s stance immediately perked up. Ears standing tall, and eyes wide open. His cloak was suddenly flung across the room as he soon produced a decanter of wine from under the table along with a few glasses.
He was dressed in the same combat outfit he had on previously. With the main differences being that his cowl was down, his mask had been hooked onto his shoulder. And his makeshift bandage had been replaced with proper coverings.
He flicked his tail at Camille in a half-hearted gesture of “Psh-aw” in response to his off hand comment.
“Sorry bout that handsome~ Sleep’s not somethin that comes easily to me. Now for my disappearance? Well let’s say I couldn’t really trust ya. That’s also something hard to come by in my profession.” The feline hummed in a humorous tone as he poured two glasses of wine. He left one empty, seeing that his acquaintance had been kind enough to bring his own drink to the table. He was a peculiar rogue. Instead of talking like some shady recluse with a dark past, he spoke with a very open and lilting manner.
The feline set the bottle down at the center of the table and leaned back in his chair. His tail flicking slowly about on the ground. “And now? Well let’s say I felt like being a friendly rogue! Mmph, Friendlier.” He gave the other a warm smile. But then the smile faded as his mind wondered.
“Though I can never get the pleasantries quite correct. Spend a life in the shadows and a knife becomes your wife, and companions are forever in strife. Now if my etiqute is correct. I offer my name? So… Neshar at your service!~”
-
After everyone parted ways, the bully did the same turning from the others to make his way to town hall as the bounty board had instructed. He only paused upon hearing one of the mages asking him to wait – at least someone wanted their bounty, it would seem. He looked over his shoulder with a lopsided grin upon seeing the other, “And here I thought I'd be the only one collecting,” he said in attempts to be friendly. “I wish I could let coin slip by as easily as the others, but alas, there are expenses for traveling.”
-
Drake chuckled to the bullie's comic reply. "Something i can vouch for. But hey at least there is more for us!" He joked back. The others probably wanted some coin too but they were aiding the injured so they just couldn't come. He would have aided too but you know the saying too many cooks spoil the recipe. Drake hung his hands o from the sides of hus pockets and looked the bully over getting a good look on him noticing the odd mixture of features. He missed the otger discussion that he had with Nemael so he was a little out of the loop. "Huh... " was all he said to not insult the large blood fuelled Mort.
-
“I figure we can bring it all back and split it between those that want it, yeah?” Perhaps it was generous, but without all of the party, he doubted that he could have taken the beast so easily. Besides, he was already getting more than he had planned to as it were – there was no use in being greedy. With the way he operated, his words were more of a plan of operation than a request of opinion.
Turning his sights forward, he continued walking, swiveling his ear to the side in case the foxcoon had anything else to say, though when Mort caught wind of the small 'huh' he couldn't help but repeat it back with a slight change to his inflection. “Huh?” he asked, partially curious as to what it was that had caught the other's attention.
-
"Ouch." Was all the response the jackal got immediately, the hybrid saying the word with no real conviction, though his jaw visibly clenched.
"As you wish. I'll keep you informed as to what is discussed, of course. I owe you that much at least." Xavier dipped a small nod at the canine as he stood up and wandered off, waiting till he was out of sight before shooting the bar maid a confused look. "While I appreciate the hospitality of giving my friend a room, if you intended for us to share it.... that's not quite what I asked for." He said, shaking his head and waving the woman away. With the way she acted it would be easier to steal a room than to argue with that woman.
He flexed his arm absently, the memory of pain still fresh in the muscles, and went over to sit near Nemael, who had been sitting unnoticed some distance away. "Since our charming hostess gave my room key to Camille, I suppose I'll have to wait on getting cleaned up." He had already gotten several uncomfortable stares from those in the bar, though by now hopefully the crusty brown stains looked as much like mud as what it truly was. "So what brings you here? Most of the others appear to simply be passing through. Is this the case for you as well?" He inquired, lifting a brow. There was a soft rustle of fabric as the mage tossed his coat back on, pulling it snugly onto his shoulders and working out the fabric until it sat smoothly against his fur. He seemed to take some sort of comfort in the act, as if it were a habit that he had developed over some time.
It was about then that the two meals he had ordered were sat down, the hybrid having forgotten to forestall his other companion for the food... he had simply gotten his bottle of brandy and wandered off. "Oh... well I suppose that other plate is yours if you want it." Xavier chimed, taking a small sip of the ale to make sure it was tolerable. You never knew in a chincy little place like this. His eyes turned to scan the door for sings of their missing members, but nothing just yet.
-
Nemael eyed the proffered meal with a look of suspicion and longing, the corners of his muzzle drawing into a subtle and disappointed frown. Even though the smell was incredibly enticing and he wished to eat alongside the hybrid, he instead pushed the platter away. He concluded it would either be saved for another ravenous party member or left for the man in case he needed more than one meal, given the battle they had left only moments before. "One of the few times a freezing river would come into use," he responded, his voice coming out flat. Whether it was meant as a joke or a serious statement was up to Xavier to decide. "For your question, many things."
Resting an arm on the table, he propped his cheek on an open palm and turned more fully towards him. However, his gaze did not remain steadily on Xavier and instead followed the movements of the various patrons, some sauntering about the room proudly while others remained slouched at their tables. He even briefly watched the woman that had served the meals and room key, his frown deepening with every person he looked upon. "Information and history are my main goal," he murmured. "My brother, the one who was here earlier, is helping me to that end. Though most people are frightened by him, it also makes them more willing to divulge certain things they would not have given so lightly. Mainly because they want him gone."
Smirking ever so slightly, his attention was suddenly caught by the apothecary from earlier walking in; but unlike their first interaction, his posture read as less closed off and more... excited? Nemael was not entirely sure, watching as he walked with the proverbial spring to his step. His shoulders were squared and a wide grin masked his gaunt face, making his cheeks appear even more shallow than before. He tracked him until the man sat down and excitedly ordered something from their hostess. His hands flapped about as he gesticulated each word. With an embarrassed grimace, Nemael cleared his throat and returned his attention to Xavier, deciding he had read the man incorrectly from their first meeting. "Yourself?" he suddenly said.
-
After the battle, the arbalest had gone his own way, leaving the witcher to wander around town for an hour or so. He was quite glad for the magic that had been used on him; if a swallow potion had not been consumed almost immediately after his eye was effected, he likely would have lost it. He also regrets staying on the sideline like he did, but he knew it had to be done. After all, if you make many snap, precision judgments in a fraction of a second, it helps to have depth perception. After meditating by his horse for about half an hour, he stood. He had hoped the swallow potion that he had brewed earlier would have worked, but it did not. granted, he was in quite a bit less pain, but his eye had not healed in any way shape or form. so he stood. This town might not be the biggest one, but it was large enough to have the castle of a noble, so it was not some small village or hamlet. So they would likely have an alchemist. He had also fashioned a makeshift, cloth, eye patch out of some rope and sterilized linen, just in case his magical one failed. With that, he walked over to the castle, humming some small tune a peasant had taught him.
"Right." he said as he walked in "I need nightshade, a pint of Alcohest, four Sewant mushrooms, five berbercane fruit, and some wolfsbane." The clerk nodded his head, and walked into the back room, quickly coming back with the rest of the requesteed ingredients. Silas knew exactly how much this would cost, so he placed the required amount of crowns onto the counter, plus a little extra for inflation, and to be a little generous. Friends never hurt, especially ones that give you herbs.
The expert monster hunter turned around, spreading his ingredients out on the alchemy table.
First, he readied the mushrooms, squeezing out their juice, and pouring it into the mixing bowl.
Second,He put the nightshade and wolfsbane together, grinding them up in the mortar.
Next, Silas made careful cuts in the berbercane fruit, to remove the seeds. After doing so, he squeezed the juices into the bowl with the sewant mushroom juice. He gave the juices a few minutes to mix and settle, pouring them into a flask after that. Then, he poured the powdered wolfsbane and nightshade into the flask, shaking them around for a few minutes after that, to allow the ingredients to ssaturate the solution.
They weren't truly mixed, however, and that is where the alcohest comes in. He carries his incomplete potion into the "danger room" (amny alchemists have such a thing; some potions can be quite volatile), and poured the alcohest into an automated, sand powered (like an hourglass), to drip the potion into the mixture ever-so slowly.
The potion that he made, was called "Hawk", and it was supposed to help with the vision in his eyes. With any luck, it should give him depth perception back.
-
Drake looked up as he was called out. Maybe he shouldn't have made a sound in the first place. "Oh nothing concerning. I just finally got a got look at you. And... well you got quite a mixture." He then sighed right after displeased with his choise of words. He should have just shut up while he was ahead. Well it's not like it's a random stranger so he simply hoped he wouldn't get frustrated or insulted.
-
Xavier watched the unusual male, unable to entirely hide his curiosity and interest in his actions. As he pushed the food away the hybrid's gaze shifted down to the plate of food before himself, carefully plucking up a carrot between his claws and popping it into his maw.
"You seem unhappy." He commented idly, though he remained otherwise silent as Nemael's gaze wandered the room. Xavier was seemingly content to eat his meal quietly, the hybrid picking deliberately selected pieces of food off of the plate and eating them one at a time. Once he could no longer simply pluck up vegetables with his claws, he grabbed the nearby fork and began using the utensil to tear off small bits of meat from what appeared to be about half of a chicken. His eyes only returned to the man when he spoke up, the mage's expression kept carefully neutral.
Nemael was a clever creature, and no doubt would pick up on how Xavier's casual demeanor was carefully kept in place, masking his true personality to all but the most receptive. It was difficult to ever tell what he was really thinking. "I'm looking for something dangerous." Came the cryptic response, the hybrid smiling playfully, the expression not quite reaching his hawk-like eyes.
"I'm not sure if you heard but I'm a treasure hunter by trade. It's something suited to my talents." He began, pausing as if considering his words. "However, my true aim is to gather magical artifacts and ancient powers that may otherwise cause trouble... the treasure hunting is just a side-gig. I sell off whatever items I happen across that aren't particularly powerful or useful to me." He motioned to the wall, the direction of the forest. "That hound creature... monsters of that power do not simply just appear without reason. In my experience they are attracted to the magical energy radiated by such artifacts as those I seek. I've been following a lead that such an item had surfaced here.... and I think our earlier battle confirms this."
The mage settled back in his seat, his cheerful expression fading to a more serious visage. "I tell you this because I do not fear that you seek power for yourself, as some of the others may... to them, for now, I shall remain a greedy treasure hunter, lest they get the notion to go after what I seek." The way his mouth twisted made it clear that any attempt to do so would not be taken kindly. "I would not even be telling yourself if I did not have a need for companions I can trust. If this artifact is guarded by more monsters on par with that Hound... I'd surely die on my own."
He raised his brow in a kind of facial shrug and returned to eating, a smile slowly taking the place of his true expression once more. "So what information are you seeking?"
-
"That's fine, doll.." Camille grunted before continuing to drink his brandy. Visibly a bit more inebriated and sighing in a state of content, he placed his elbow on the chair and leaned his chin on it. The healer, although the youngest of the group; had quite the fondness for liquor.
"But the problem is, surely someone who is so talented and trained in the art of shadows could escape the light, no?" He laughed and looked to Neshar with his gaze narrow and focused. "One who lies about their identity upon first arrival shouldn't be speaking of trust. It's hard to expect to be able to trust others when you do not place trust in them.." He laughed and then traced his eyes over the creature's figure, humming quietly as he read over what life energy he could from him.
"I do hope your wounds were insignificant," He shifted his gaze away after a moment, pouring the rest of his brandy into the glass. "The name is Camille, and with my personality causing trouble; giving away too much of my power wouldn't be wise of me.." He words began to slur slightly, although the jackal remained fairly coherent, mostly sipping upon the ale more than the brandy.
"Trust is a very finicky thing. If anything, it's easier to be friendly when waltzing in from the shadows. Those of us who walk the path of light have much more trouble drawn to us, so we learn to thrive from it." He rambled slightly before sighing and running a hand through his hair, pulling it back with a grunt. "But it's all right. Disappearing probably saved you the tongue lashing I could've delivered. So tell me, Mr... Neshar... Why is it you're waiting in the room. Pleasantries aside, people always have goals." His muzzle cracked into a smirk as his gaze placed itself back upon the creature in the room; back to its piercing default.
-
Neshar’s eyes regarded the bottle of brandy with a hint of curiosity. A little odd for something so young to be devouring such large quantities of alcohol needlessly. Was it for pleasure, or driven by pain? Well at any rate, the feline’s anu companion seemed relatively stable. But he’ll just have to wait for future developments.
The thief took a light sip of his wine, and held it lazily in his hands. He lounged quite comfortably in the chair. His hand tilting about to swirl his drink in it’s glass. His head canted to the left a bit as his mind began to wonder over the other’s words. A clever tongue, well least the group isn’t full of twits and ditzs.
But seeing as it was his turn to speak, the feline gave a smile and a light chuckle. His head now tilting to the other side. “Ah! But I must forever hide from the light. But the light will always find me. And with the light, assassins, paladins, thugs, and hunters. I fear the light, and lament in the caress of the shades. Listening to the sweet words it whispers in my ears.”
The feline… may have been quite literal with what he is saying. His life aura is in a ridiculously volatile state. With some small sparks pouring out of it that represented the curse he was under. The effects of the curse had been weak initially. But eventually his aura stabilized and grew stronger as the feline leaned back, slipping out of the setting sun’s limelight, and into the shade. With the only window facing the north, the room was surprisingly dark even with what sunlight that remained. A hint of the effects were also visible as his eyes became lightly illuminated in a purple-esque aura.
The feline offered a shrug. Then hummed softly as he placed his drink down and sat up. “And for what I am doing here? Well, you’re certainly no fun. Couldn’t hazard a wild guess in a bedroom with one bed, a lone male, and a bottle of wine?” The feline nodded to the bed. And paused, giving the male a serious look. Before finally letting his lips curl into a smile, hinting at the joke.
“My goals are simple. I’ve been sent here to investigate something. I would have just ignored your group. But… your wolf…. Otter… friend had unintentionally hinted a secondary motive. High quality coats with colors are usually seen only on nobles, aristocrats, and merchants in these lands. So… a foreigner is most likely the answer. But a foreigner coming from distant lands to slay a monster only worth four-hundred silver coins? Mmm… you might want to sharpen your critical thinking skills when you preach trust to a shadow fiend. But even I would still hold trust for him, he does have a smile that can warm the coldest creature’s heart. Nothing a bastard could accomplish.”
The feline then chuckled, and pulled the locked bronze sphere he had pilfered from the lord’s house, and tossed it to the Anu. “And your employer, the lord? Well, a dangerous man.”
-
Nemael tilted his head curiously as he watched Xavier from the corner of his eye, noting the unusually delicate way he went about his meal. "Unhappy? Not the word I would have chosen." He flashed the hybrid a thin grin and fully returned his attention to him. Idly he waved at the apothecary who seemed to have become drunk off the air itself, boisterously motioning to those who joined him at his table. "I am actually quite thrilled. Is it that hard to tell?"
The question was born of genuine curiosity, but he shrugged it away when he noted the otters careful demeanor and the topic on which he spoke. Although it went against every fiber of his being, he drew his hood down and shifted position, reclining on the arm that once held his chin. For all intents and purposes he looked as though he were participating in an airy conversation with an old friend, something he hoped would make newcomers shy away or, at the very least, not give them a second look. As it was, a hooded figure talking to a flamboyant creature of unknown origin was more likely to draw an unwanted crowd, especially in such a small village where everyone seemed to know the others entire history.
"Convenient to your cause and worthy of praise, given how the Ere--our world can be." Nemael did what he could to mask his brief stutter, muzzle quirking. "You are also correct in that notion. However, while what brings me here has nothing to do with such endeavors, I would be glad to aid you in your search. If such an object exists here, I can easily imagine the ramifications."
For a moment, the easy-going facade shattered to reveal one of deep sorrow. As much as he may have tried to control whatever feel he gave off to any person he may meet, there were some things that were simply unrestrained and that went completely unnoticed even to him. Yet as quickly as it appeared, it was gone within a moments notice, likely obvious to the hybrid even when it was not to himself. "I wish to find answers on how a spirit may completely leave the Shift, either to return to the living or to whatever is beyond, if such a thing exists. And before it is even considered, my reasons are not what most would associate with such a venture."
Shifting his weight so he leaned more against the bar, his eyes finally met Xavier's. "I was misled into believing the Hound was such a creature, having been capable of leaving it and coming to exist fully within this reality; returned to flesh and blood without the normal downside, if you will. Hence why I came to this village in the first place."
Nibbling on his lower lip and glancing away, his eyes suddenly narrowed as something occurred to him. "Or perhaps I was not. If what you believe resides here actually does, is it not awfully convenient that so many capable adventurers came upon this place within the same day? Perhaps the idea is born of paranoia, but..." Nemael rolled his shoulders, knowing the hybrid could easily complete his thought.
-
The hybrid just smiled back at the man, and this time the expression did wrinkle the edges of his eyes. He did not respond immediately, but rather looked down at his drink and slowly shook his head. He could detect the honesty in Nemael's anwer and subsequent question, which he guessed meant that the strange male had no idea he had just been frowning so deeply just seconds before.
"Perhaps it is." Came the delayed reply. The otter-wolf's ears perked slightly as the other related his reason for being here. Xavier gave a nod once he was finished speaking. "An interesting notion, likely more interesting for anyone who has more knowledge of this...Shift? It sounds like some type of alternate dimension or afterlife from what I have seen thus far." He paused another moment in thought, his head canting ever so slightly to one side.
"I had considered the notion, but unless we are being drawn here by magical means... it would take a very crafty and very organized group to so subtly bring us all together in the same place on the same day without any of us realizing we were being herded." He replied, rubbing gently at his chin with his webbed paw. "I had thought it simply the act of a Nexus-" He smiled slightly, sheepishly. "A type of natural node that attracts magic and people of skill at certain intervals of time." Xavier explained, shrugging. "But that is as unlikely a thing as anything else. They are so rare that most people dismiss them as a fantasy."
Xavier let that information hang for a moment as he looked over his shoulder, noticing the apothecary almost immediately. He picked out several details of the man, then turned back to Nemael with a knowing look. "The man you spoke of earlier, I presume? He seems in good spirits... I wonder if he ran into Mort and Drake on his way here and heard the good news."
-
"Employer? That isn't quite the relation, nor the person.. My real employer.. Yes, we may call him King, though the truth?" He chuckled and toyed with the orb before his cloak shortened and the missing parts reformed to hold the orb between the pair in luminescence. "To say that he is my employer is true on a surface level. But to run a bit more deeper, and look at the line.. Kings come and go."
He took another elongated sip of his brandy while toying with the orb; the light material magnificent and white. Although resembling a glowing quartz in its current state from its previous silken form. He had carefully ignored the lewd reference, ears twitching and eyes narrowing slightly before he turned his gaze back elsewhere.
"The Aelius always reside. Some may call it disloyalty, but.. Loyalty itself isn't something valued in politics. Rest assured, though.. All of us are very dangerous men. Some of us more than others, but to an extent, of course. And with this, I can become a bit more dangerous." The orb was gestured in a light swing at the feline; tapping upon his head lightly. The jackal chuckled. "The lord who possessed this is a very minor fellow in terms of power. All the more to strive for, of course.. But at the moment of my leaving, his word didn't carry anything. Though, in your world, that may be a bit different.." His words were getting a bit more slurred as the alcohol took affect; although the jackal retained lucidity.
"The orb may mean nothing to a thief of your sort, but with the right magic. It may. But speaking of mages.. Our friend, Xavier." He sat up and brought the orb between his hands once more. "He is not recognizable to me. I would normally say he could be a child of someone, hidden.. Regardless of his age, but.. He's artificial. Now it's careful to note what I mean, because he is not undead, based on his energy.. More a creation. Healing him took much more than it would something organic."
His piercing gaze turned to look at the window's position and then to eye the thief before him. "I'm assuming you know which side the moon will be this night, don't you?"
-
The feline held still as the Jackal bopped him in the noggin with the orb. His head tilting back lightly as his eyes winced a bit. Even if it was just a light tap… it was still a metal object, and it’d still hurt just a bit if it was dropped on someone’s toe.
The feline hummed softly as he now pulled out the encrypted letters, and began to read through them. Seeing if he could spot any particular pattern to the words that might help him decipher them. That… or if the language was just another language. That also seems to be pretty common lately, especially with rebelling parties. Not so much with thieves.
“Thieves of my sort? Oh come now, you’ve seen what I can do handsome. Well… the surface anyways… still was iffy about helping the lot of you,” Neshar hummed as his eyes continued to scroll through the text, closely watching every bit of detail he had before him. He smiled as he reached the end, and picked up the next document, and began to compare a few parts.
“I’m a thief whom can dive between worlds, hide myself in the darnest of places, steal something invaluable to a mage in broad daylight, and carry explosive arrows.” The feline’s lips curled into a broader smile.
He didn’t mind stating the truth. There was little to hide, and any information he had, could be easily learned if the Jackal was smart enough. Which… he seemed to be proving to be quite competent. Not that the feline had to test his ability, but it was just the way the other’s tongue worked.
Then the that final line. The feline paused for a moment, and allowed his eyes to shift upwards to the Jackal with a hint of curiosity. As the sun continued to dip away, the room got progressively darker.. with the feline’s eyes beeming with more energy. Though he did feel a bit suspicious to the question. Maybe it was instincts telling him to be ready for an unpredictable assault.
“A question of Astronomy? Well gorgeous, less you wish to delve into the deeper nuances featuring philosophical thinking, matters beyond mortal comprehensions, with logical fallacies, a smidge of terrible reasoning, a terrible argument, -OR- things of a metaphysical nature... then the answer true and tested is always the same side as each night… within this plane anyways.”
-
[Are we waiting on somebody?]
-
Nemael was readying to question Xavier about the nature of Nexus' and why he suspected they played a role in what was occurring when his attention suddenly shifted to the taverns doors. As he watched them swing inward and noted the figure pushing through, he rose from his seat so quickly that the chair noisily rattled. He gave the hybrid and apothecary a quick glance before he strode toward the entrance, maneuvering around those who got in his way with a deft ease. The closer he got, the more his expression softened and he reached out with an arm, clasping the persons forearm and pulling them in close.
"I finally got your message from the spirit you sent," Silverwing responded as they parted. The stars currently making up her eyes shifted ever so slightly as her gaze briefly slid across the man Nemael had been conversing with. Her ears perked curiously while an ever widening grin marked the corners of her beak, the sheer joy being experienced in the room as well as meeting her closest friend immediately changing her mood. "I must say, though, they were quite unclear! Something about a bounty on a hound and you needing my assistance?"
Nemael gave a disgruntled snort and shook his head. "That is done with. The hound is long dead." Waving for her to follow him as he turned, he strode back to the bar and sat in the same spot he had been in to begin with. Silverwing eyed the bar stools with some suspicion and opted to remain standing instead, her attention constantly moving from Nemael to Xavier.
"Xavier, meet Silverwing. H--she is part of the reason I needed to leave." He inclined his head toward the towering creature, a wide grin masking his lips, though irritation also clearly read through his closed-off posture. Fortunately it was not directed toward either of them and instead at the spirit who had somehow been severely delayed. "Although this is entirely abrupt, she will do everything she can to aid your endeavors; even though she knows nothing about it."
Silverwing's smirk grew wider and she extended a hand to the hybrid, watching as Nemael gathered himself back up before suddenly spinning out of the chair and exiting the building. She gave a soft and airy laugh, moving slightly closer. "I must apologize for his behavior," she said. "He can be a bit brusque, though he seems to have taken a liking to you. You must have made quite the impression on him, Ser Xavier."
Once the hybrid either chose to shake her hand or leave it awkwardly hanging, she would eventually lower it and cock her head at the curious man. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, yet she continued to retain the unusually buoyant personality she had displayed earlier. While it was outside of how she typically treated those she knew nothing of, the sheer swell of the emotions running rampant throughout the building was beyond what she could control. "The people in here are incredibly joyous," she continued. Turning slightly away from him, she looked across the people that had gathered. "It is almost overwhelming. It is because of the Hound?"
Turning back to him, she continued to ignore the seat while staring down at the hybrid. It was hard for her to get a feeling for him and his current stance on what went on in the building, given the sheer number of people who were slowly sliding into a drunken stupor. Quickly she changed tact as the joyous celebrations were becoming too much. "May we continue to talk outside?"
-
Drake huffed as he turned the corner the inn just in sight now. That whole fiasco with the issuer of the job took a lot longer that he planned and left him in a bad mood. It's almost as if he didn't expect that anyone was going to complete the job. But nonetheless he got paid and the coin was in a pouch that was given with the reward plus a bonus with some... enticing with the help of Mort. Too bad he couldn't come along though he seemed like a great party member.
Drake came to the doors of the in and came into the building. Looking over the grouping of assorted members inside and looked for one specific thing. The hybrid in bright clothing. After spotting him he made his way over.
-
Xavier remained seated as Nemael stood and walked over to the door, seemingly un-bothered by the sudden interruption of conversation. His expression displayed an open and casual curiosity as to what was going on, but he was sure that he would be clued in as soon as the introductions were over. He couldn't make out much of their conversation given the noise of the room, but was relatively sure that the two were close. Maybe even related in some way, despite their varied appearances.
As the large avian approached the table he simply offered a warm smile, having allowed his head to rest gently on an upraised paw, his muzzle hovering just some inches over his mug of ale. Anyone less observant might have thought the man a slouching drunk, but to Nemael and his friend it was clear he was simply assuming that posture out of comfort... and possibly to throw a false impression to the rest of the room. To what end it was unclear.
After she had been introduced, the hybrid gave her a once over, his gaze lingering on her peculiar eyes. "He might just like me because I'm not pushing his buttons like some of our comrades." He remarked, giving Nemael a playful wink. "You scoundrel, bringing a woman around. Figured out my weakness, hmm?" He remarked, his smile turning to a grin. He reached out and grasped her hand when it was offered, even coming out of his seat halfway to do so, but not fully standing. "Charmed." He said with an ice-melting smirk. His handshake was firm, but not aggressively so. As his paw clasped hers, however, the full extent of his duplicitous nature would spark in her mind like a chill wind blowing through.
The hybrid's charm was a front, not entirely falsified, but he was definitely pouring it on in full. His attention was actually on her outline, his hungry gaze actually picking out the places where the woman might be hiding weapons. Obviously, trust did not come easy to the hybrid. There was something else, but the brevity of the contact only revealed that he was keeping careful track of something behind himself.
"Silverwing is quite a pretty name." He remarked, sitting back down and smiling at her just the same. He listed with careful attentiveness, then nodded, standing up. "Let's. The crowd has gotten a bit rowdy." He agreed, then smirked. "It seems our reward money has arrived." He chimed, seeing Drake making his way across the room. The fox-coon would get scooped under an arm as Xavier made his way around the table, shoving his mug of ale into the mage's paws before he could question the action. "We're going outside!" He remarked jovially, dragging Drake with him as he made his way towards the door.
Watchful eyes would see the barmaid he had ordered from earlier with a sour expression on her face, staring at his back.
-
"Were you really helping us, or were we helping you? Yes you appeared from nowhere, however.. It was more a service to the area." He returned the smirk; piercing gaze locked upon the letters as they were being decoded.
His grin turned slightly sinister as he heard the thief's abilities; sharp tongue responding promptly. "I'm a healer and a restrainer.. I can return the life to others', but I must pry it from something else, first. Of course, I can also shield one from.. Certain acidic attacks."
He chucked as his ears perked with every slight compliment and romantic implication. Rolling his eyes quite promptly before finishing his brandy, he gazed out the window before back to the thief as he responded to his final question. The jackal leaned back and relaxed slightly, the bronze still floating before him in its temporary crystal.
"The moon shifts on an axis; some nights it leans to the north, others to the south.. Depending on the season. Given, such factors don't seem to matter too much to your sort, as most darkness is still darkness; even underneath a silver veil. However, it can make an essential difference to many people. If utilized correctly, as any weapon should be.."
He sighed contently before sitting back up, leaning slightly over his chair and bringing his crystal near the letters via a slow motion of his hand; shining upon them in the silver light. "As my brandy sets in more, I can't help but think I should be the one making the compliments spit from my mouth.." His eyes peered at the papers that had been placed down; scrambling to properly see past the haze of inebriation. "But with your quantity, it would seem unnecessary as a fellow such as I should." He grinned sharply again, still eyeing the papers.
-
The feline’s dipped back down to the letters. But he pursed his lips after running across an interesting sheet within the stack. It appears that this encryption wasn’t down to memory, so the lord and his companion had had a key. The feline’s eyes scanned over the list memorizing the translations before quickly going back over the letters once more.
“It’s good to see that I’m not the only one with unfavorable magic in these lands,” The feline hummed. He took a mental note of the other’s sinister grin when he glanced up. Though the feline’s eyes showed a mock sense of insecurity. Hinted by his smirk and his uncaring glance back down to the letters. He’s been part of the underworld for a long time, why would he be scared of a threat now?
Besides, if the claim of him being able to pry life from a creature is true… there would have been more use of that in the previous fight.
“But… I’ll need to correct you. The conditions of the moon does matter to me. But not in the way of the moon’s tilt on its axis. No… phases are more important to the shadow fiend. The less light, the better. New moon and cloudy sky. Nearly impossible to see at night.”
He slowly moved a letter onto the table, starting the next. “Now… was I helping you,” the feline leaned back with a thoughtful look. That was actually a hard question to answer now. He really wasn’t sure what his actions classified as.
“Technically, yes. I was really helping you. It’d be unwise to leave such a thing thrashing about…” he trailed off as his eyes narrowed down on one specific conversation in the letters. His lips flattened some, before he finally laid the last letter down. He rose to his feet in a streatch.
“Sides, couldn’t leave a handsome anu for dead” the feline looked to the other with a grin. “And that was before I realized exactly what my purpose here was. And for that, I thank you! Not just with parting words. But it seems that there was an unfortunate party before yours. They carried some stellar equipment it seems. Join me, and you can have your pick from them with no back stabs. My word on that. Or I could give you a kiss~ Or both.”
-
The only outward response she gave to Xavier from both his idle commentary and the brief contact they shared was an almost imperceptible narrowing of the eyes, moving only a fraction of an inch as she felt that he was not truly being upfront with her. Fortunately she would wait until one of his companions, a man of distinctly chimeric origins, had been dragged outside to join them in their conversation before saying a word.
Carefully examining the unusual fox-coon, she offered her hand as a polite gesture; although the true reasoning behind it was the same as for when she touched Xavier. After all, she had learned from her past mistakes, quickly discovering that it was better to offer a civilized greeting and signal of camaraderie than to randomly snag a persons shoulder or a few strands of fur. "Thank you for the kind remark on my name," she started. "We all must bear reminders of our past, no matter the form, yes?"
Her gaze briefly shifted to Drake as she spoke. The almost manic grin she bore when first entering the tavern had finally shifted down a few levels, turning into a pleasant smirk. "Before we continue the prior conversation, I must ask. Why are you putting on such a facade? Do you not trust your companions? Or, at the very least, those you are currently travelling with?" She waved to Drake to punctuate what she was saying, the feathers on her arm folding back and away from her hand as she did so.
The crease of a grin turned into one of contemplation as she stared at both men. "I will understand if you do not wish to speak of this in front of others or even admit it directly to me. I am still learning about how your world works and I am unsure if this line of questioning would be considered... rude."
-
Drake raised a hand in hello as Xavier approached surprised by the sudden act of being dragged outside in the fashion he was. He definitely didn't act like this on the way to the fight or back from it so something must be up. He grabbed the mug with a stammered sound of confusion and walked out with Xavier.
When the newcomer raised a hand Drake shook it. This new person was definitely at least interesting to look at for sure but he wouldn't say anything till she finished questioning Xavier. Come to think of it he seemed to be leading the ground inadvertently. Getting everyone together and everything seemed all his doing. "Yeah... it does seem that way." He said giving him a sideways glance to Xavier.
-
The mage seemed genuinely caught off-guard for once, his gaze shifting towards the other mage under his arm, a dangerous glimmer flickering for a moment as he contemplated the ramifications of being outed in front of the fox-coon. If a fight was to happen, now would be likely his only opportunity to down the boy, he was quite strong. However, Drake was young, and possibly the least likely of the bunch to react violently. The flicker of thought passed and Xavier just stepped away from his companion, giving him some room to react if things did go south.
"Well that is certainly a surprise. You figured me out that quickly?" He inquired, though the way he was looking at the avian female hinted that he knew something more was at play than sharp wits. He made a placating gesture at Drake. "Sorry, I've been putting on an act since you and the others met me. I've got more reason to be here than that meager bounty. No doubt a few of the others have guessed as much." He cast a glance at Silverwing, trying to make out what her game was. "Something I had only confided with Nemael just a few minutes ago." He added, his ears swiveling slightly as a rowdy cheer came from inside of the tavern.
"The Hound was most likely a simple byproduct of the real issue here. There is rumored to be an item of immeasurable power hidden in this country. The information I've managed to gather hints that it is a weapon of some kind, with enough destructive force to make the wizards of old construct a magical containment system to keep it out of the wrong hands. The containment must be starting to fail, however, as recently this area has been plagued by monsters and magical phenomena with a startling regularity. I'm here to make sure nobody else gets their hands on it." He looked pointedly at Drake. "Including you lot. I'm sure that most of you don't have any ill intentions, but power of that magnitude can corrupt even noble souls." He shrugged, as if it was some form of apology. "Couldn't risk any of you knowing and trying to go after it. I can't fight all of you at once if you decided to come against me. Hell, I couldn't even kill the guard dog."
His gaze returned to the avian, and he looked her over with a slightly troubled expression. "You had no way of knowing, Empath, but your lack of foresight concerns me. If I were a more heartless man you may well have provoked a fight, calling me out like that." He paused to let that sink in a moment. "As it stands... I suppose it now comes down to what each of you feels we should do from here."
He had indeed noticed the polarity of her expressions from the moment she walked into the bar till just now. It did not take a genius to figure out some outside force was playing on her mood. Xavier also had some experience with those who could mind-meld. He traveled with one for a year or so not so long ago. He did have some sympathy for the woman, Empaths lived a hard life.
-
"All magic is unfavorable when used against you." He spoke as he watched Neshar standing; he followed with a grunt, slightly stumbling upon his rise and leaning onto the chair with a similar stretch. The orb was rested on the table with the letters as the crystal then returned to the jackal's cloak. His ears tilted slightly as he was called handsome; his lips curled slightly.
"Don't call me that." He lashed with his tongue, "I don't need anyone to keep me alive." He grunted softly as he was leaning against the chair and then the wall near the doorway to the room. The tavern was a bit more quiet, although the bustle in the outside longue wasn't hard to hear. He looked back at Neshar; the room mostly dark as his gaze found the thief's outline. He leaned off the wall, and it was clear the alcohol had set in. Although standing without the support of the wall, he was swaying slightly. Alcohol gave his emotions a euphoric mix; while anger was all that seemed to be in, he actually felt extremely pleasant for the most part. And although not completely coherent, he understood that Neshar was implying he go somewhere, and tailing seemed like a pleasant idea.
"No materials, I don't need them..." He grumbled as he waited.
-
Silverwing bowed her head as she listened to the commentary of Nemael's companions, specifically noting the hard tones that had suddenly steeled Xavier's voice and the accusatory glances Drake seemed to send his way. While it had not entirely been her intent to instill such doubt, both in her perceived sensibilities and in the mind of the fox-coon, she also could not admit to being entirely surprised by the turn of circumstance. What did catch her off guard was the fact the hybrid had not tried to quiet her before she finished her line of questioning, let alone what she had been insinuating with her curiosity.
"Neither of you are innocent in the matter, of course," she said. Although she spoke softly, the pointed glance she sent towards Drake only functioned to punctuate the intent of her comment. The look was then followed by a slight furrow of the brow as she considered the statements made, both verbally and metaphysically as conveyed through the simplest of handshakes. "Secrets are binding. While I think it is best to lay them out in the open, my people do not... function the same way most cultures and races appear to."
Furling her wings in closer to her body, she carefully clipped the implanted piercings to the hooks attached to the cloth on her arms. "Where you see lack of foresight, I see means to an end." When her wings were settled, her eyes shifted from Drake and back to Xavier. However, they seemed to move yet again and settled at a point just beyond the hybrids shoulder, the dust tail of a comet that had long since passed glittering on the vast, black landscape that composed her eyes. "I must also admit to being rather curious. Why has that woman been attempting to keep you within sight?"
Hoping she had chosen her words far more carefully this time around, she forced herself to bite back the desire to chase after the barmaid. It would have been simple enough to gain a brief understanding, at least on an emotional level, if she could just gain physical contact outside of the bustling tavern. Then again, the woman's behavior could also easily suggest the mundane, such as Xavier forgetting to pay for the meal he had been enjoying when Silverwing first walked inside.
On the other hand, the avian bore suspicion towards every last living entity that was not a Samsara, understanding far too well that those outside of her people tended to choose hiding their agenda over being upfront; let alone honest. "Again, I do apologize if anything I say is considered rude. I have not quite learned what may be considered, ah," she hummed as she thought of the proper phrase. "Out of line."
-
Drake just simply kept a eye on Xavier as he spoke trying to gauge him. He had plenty of questions but not the patience or composure to listen right now because of earlier and the sudden revelation of his true motives. With a sigh and rub to his eyes with his free left hand he simply said. "We'll talk about this later... I'm not in the mood for this crap right now."
He then listened to Silverwing as she explained herself some more. He simply crossed his arms and let Xavier take over keeping a eye on the woman, not sure on what to think about her. Definitely a interesting person.
-
The otter-wolf just smirked at the female, listening carefully now that she had revealed herself to be an honest threat to his tenuous partnership with the group. "So you knew what you were doing?" He questioned, and his tone conveyed an honest disbelief. If that were the case...
"This artifact is dangerous, and neither you nor I can get close without the aide of the others here. Betraying their trust, no matter the reasoning, is dangerous beyond explanation. If I cannot reach this artifact and it falls into the hands of one more selfish or ambitious than myself... it could very well doom us all." To say nothing of the countless innocents that may get caught up in the power struggles that follow.
As for the barmaid, Xavier did not even bother to follow the Samsara's gaze, hoping the odd nature of her eyes would not betray where she was looking. "I am not entirely certain, but the fact that she bothered to come see where I was going does not bode well. She tried to have me share a room with Camille against my request...." A slightly worried look crossed his face, brow furrowing. "Arguments aside, it would be wise to make sure he has not gotten himself into trouble. That woman seems to have a vested interest in having us both go to the same room, for some reason."
He glanced over at Drake. "I take no joy in deceiving you or the others, it is just a necessary measure of precaution." He commented. "Many of my past allies have betrayed my loyalty."
-
Drake simply gave a dismissive wave as he replied. "Yeah yeah, you didn't know us and all that i understand. Didn't want to have people backstab you. To be honest I would have done something similar. But i want to talk to you after this meeting and get more in depth on this subject." He then folded his arms across his chest and huffed as he squeezed a bit of sir out of his lungs. Well looks like he wasn't the only one useing this group minorly.
-
It was all fun and games naturally! Neshar was simply playing the part of an annoying rogue. He hadn’t thought that his flirting would have actually gotten anywhere. But, well it seems he thought wrong. The feline stopped dead in his tracks after hearing the last few words from Cam. He slowly turned around raising a brow, and even accenting the incredulity he was feeling with a gentle “hhhm?”
He studied the man for a moment. No materials? Don’t need them? He’s one of those spiritual types it seems. But, the feline did offer something else. And it did not seem that the possibly tipsy Jackal had any plans on saying no to the last one. And so with a light grin, and a small shrug, he spun around completely and firmly planted a heartful kiss on the other’s lips.
Payment finalized.
He let it hang for a few seconds, before finally breaking it and heading out the door, down the stairs, past the annoyed Inn keep, and out the door. Adventure awaits!
-
(Dear sweet Farore, Silverwing is hard to play with these idealistic tendencies!)
Silverwing carefully weighed her response, gaze resting gods only knew where as she thought. "Yes. It may be that I am idealistic or that I hold my peoples tenets in too high of a regard, but I have learned over time that it is better to openly bear the truth with those you plan to undertake such tasks with." She paused and waved at Drake, pointing out that he had become incredibly guarded and distinctly disgruntled with the situation at hand. "Lying to one another, even by omission, will only lead to strife. You must also consider whether or not they truly wish to help with a task that would put their lives in danger. After all, would you willingly follow someone who hid their intentions and fully planned to bring you on an endeavor that would very likely cost your life?"
Making an unusual clicking noise, her feathered crest lowered ever so slightly as she recalled several instances where her trust in others had been betrayed. Granted she had been younger then, perhaps even more foolhardy than how she presented herself now. But she could not turn away from the very ideals that partially made the Samsara who they were, let alone begin blatantly lying to those around her when it was unneeded. "Tell them your purpose and reason. If they choose to stand by your side, you will know for a fact that you have steadfast allies. But if they choose to turn against you? It would be better to know now than when you are just about to obtain the object of your search, one of them striking you down when you are at your weakest."
Feeling slightly uncomfortable as she felt the emotions emanating from both Xavier and Drake, she was pleasantly distracted by the tavern door swinging open. A single brow rose as out strode an awfully energetic feline, his mere presence nearly overriding the two who stood before her. "You as well," she suddenly said. Although her attention appeared to be resting on the roguish cat as he strode towards their little gathering, she had tilted her head far enough to briefly point her beak at Drake.
It may have seemed that she was ignoring the fox-coons comments towards the hybrid, but in reality she had been directing her little speech towards both of them. While her continued stay with this group was up in the air, a fact she understood had been put into play by answering Nemael's messenger spirit and promising to aid them, she hoped they would at least take what she said into consideration. To her it was better to know where everyone stood and whether they truly believed in the cause they were undertaking, rather than risking their bowing out at the worst possible moment.
-
(Making waves xD)
Xavier watched the avian carefully as she considered her response, offering Drake a slight inclination of his head in gratitude for his understanding. That issue, at least, seemed to be working out in his favor. As he suspected, the fox-coon was too level-headed to allow the sting of deception overcome better judgement. The Captain's gaze remained level and unmoved as the woman began speaking, his eyes drinking in the details of her shifting expressions. It was quite clear to him that she was being honest herself, or was so adept a liar that he could not possibly detect any untruths. The former was far more likely.
"In truth-" The hybrid replied, interrupted by the sudden appearance of the feline. He gave the rogue a look of curiosity, and then an almost sinister smile. "Well, hello again." Xavier chimed, looking him over carefully. The care-free gait in which he walked put the hybrid at ease. It was not the body language of a man looking to harm or steal. Plus, he guessed that Neshar's trump card was to ply his advantage from the shadows. The fact that he had openly walked out to them was certainly not a sign of aggression. "Come to collect the bounty?" Xavier ventured a guess.
He took a few steps away from the rogue, moving to stand beside the large female, dwarfed in the most unsettling way by her height. As an aside he commented to her, though quite audible to any listening. "In truth, I admire your ideals. I regretfully inform you, though, that heroism is rare and greed is rampant. Were I to disclose my true motives to an entire group of men of my strength and skill, there's a high probability they would kill me simply to remove me as a future opponent. It is not a matter of simply being turned away from potential allies. It is a matter of self-preservation."
As he finished speaking he reached out and gently touched the side of her arm, his fingers gently pressing against her feathers before he pulled away. As if to highlight his point he focused on past memories,and in those flashes of emotion and thought she would feel the sting of a blade in the chest, the bite of a bullet tearing through a torso, the crushing agony of a betrayed love, and the cold grip of death. Before he pulled away from her arm there was also a hint of remorse, and certainly fear. In a voice too low for the rest to hear he whispered. "The rewards of trust..." and for once he could not keep the slight tremor from his voice.
He seemed to rally himself and his voice rang out clearly once more. "Shadow-dancer, you did not happen to see our rather eccentrically dressed healer in there, did you?"
-
Drake sighed seeing the Silverwing character point out his guarded pose. He almost had half a mind of snapping and simply saying things about his entire predicament getting out of one bad situation to learn that a ally was using you. This was one of the reasons why he didn't like groups too many unknowns and hidden motives which could undermine the entire thing.
Drake wasn't really paying attention to Silverwing when he started to notice she was simply ranting about a idealistic world if he knew what Xavier did he would do something similar just it not being as harsh. That's when he noticed the entire focus switched and he looked to see what got the Hybrid's focus. Seeing the feline and hearing Xavier call him shadow dancer had him confused. He looked liked the random person he pulled to safety in the fray. What exactly did he miss.
-
The jackal grumbled as his lips were met with another. He smirked against his face and pulled it a bit deeper, before breaking apart with the other and giving a tantalizing look. He grabbed his glass and watched the other dash down the stairs ambitiously, although Camille took some time. His ears perked at the title healer as he came down from the stairs, and he looked at Xavier with crossed arms; "I don't think you have much to say about being eccentric." His intoxicated, although dark eyes then batted slightly and reexamined the hybrid. "Although, if you're looking for my services, it seems like you need a type of healing I cannot give." He laughed drunkenly, tossing down coins for another glass of ale, and receiving so.
He walked to the group and looked at Drake and then the new Silverwing; tilting his head slightly at her. "Camille Aelius is my name. Guess I cranked out the big guy, huh?" He grinned a bit, although the group was mostly quiet upon his entry. Batting his ears a bit and then turning, he looked back. "Don't be so down, folks. Get another drink, while you can."
"Aye, thief! Waitup!" He staggered slightly after finishing his ale and leaving it upon the bar. Almost tripping over his cloak, he made it out the door and peered around outside for the other member of their party. He began to walk in the direction of the monster from earlier; eyes rather hazy in the night.
-
The feline came to a halt in front of the traveling party that he had ran into earlier. A smile curled onto his lips as Xavier took a wild assumption on his reason for being here. Well… Xavier hadn’t shown up to the bedroom for a private chat… so he likely already knows –what- Neshar really was. No point in hiding the fact that he was a thief now. A damned good one at that. Well… a very outgoing thief.
The feline spoke with a humorous and chiding tone, “Bounty? Hunny if I wanted the money, I wouldn’t have waited like this. I would have just lift it from the payer himself.” He was chuckling softly now after looking the other up and down, “But I can also tell you’re not exactly here for money. Advice, loose the jacket and seadog smell if you’re trying to hide your reasons.”
He clasped his hands together, and allowed his ears to perk up. “Now then! Your friend? Bit tipsy. Lips taste like brandy. And he’s lagging behind.”
The feline then allowed his gaze to drift away. The eyes were now completely glazed over in a visible purple aura. A magic aura leaked freely like smoke from a candle. Thanks to the night sky, his vision had turned to a very desaturated representation of the world. And though it lacked a good deal of colors, Neshar’s eyes easily pierced the night.
First his eyes settled on Drake, whom he recalled pulled him into the center of their… chaotic formation. Seems he was having some sort of personal dilemma. Like he was just questioning life it’s self. Poor guy.
And then… the large female. Her size immediately caused the feline’s head to recoil in surprise. Neshar pursed his lips together, eyeing her for a moment longer. The size briefly reminded him of home. Yeesh, he hoped she was nowhere near as aggressive as the sergals in Vilus.
Then the feline heard footsteps behind himself. He glanced back, then smiled to the Jackal. His gaze turned back to the group, and he gave a polite bow. “Neshar! Professional Thief. Glad to join you,” he chimed. He quickly pulled out the stack of letters he stole from the Lord, and offered them out to Xavier, seeing as he seems to be the party leader.
“You will need these!” And with that, the feline began to walk to the woods with Cam.
-
Recoiling once Xavier had let go of her arm, Silverwing's expression flashed from deeply wounded to severely disappointed. Whether it was in the fact the hybrid had taken advantage of her species' abilities or what she had felt would remain unstated, her gaze shifting away to watch as the jackal stalked off into the forest with the feline quickly trailing behind. While she had taken note of their words and the unusual action--and reaction--of the cat-thief, the thin line creasing the corner of her beak remained. Indeed, she would not speak for a few breaths longer as she considered the experiences felt and the lack of response from Drake.
When she finally did speak, her voice was stilted; almost forced. "We uniquely bear our scars and their affect on us. Your experiences led you towards being cautious and somewhat dishonest with those around you; my own turned me into the creature before you today."
Her crest came to lay against the back of her neck as she spoke, ears almost seeming to fold with the feathers as they dipped down. She turned towards the fox-coon. "You wanted to speak with him alone, so here is your chance." With that she walked back to the tavern, gently pushing through the doors as a loud cheer rose to greet the quickening night.
-
The hybrid let out an exaggerated sigh when the jackal came into view. He was about to say he was glad to see him, but the way he was walking and the smell off booze around him tipped Xavier off to the fact that it may be better just to let him go on his way. He was safe, or safe enough. "Be careful, and don't get lost." He responded, ignoring the comment about his clothing.
Xavier did not venture to guess at the feline's profession, but it came offered anyway. He seemed entirely undisturbed by the revelation, which was not all too surprising given the way the man had fought earlier. It bespoke skills that were commonplace in the trade, stealth and subterfuge. The exception may have been the explosive arrow he had fired. He held out a paw for the offered letters, giving them a glance through quickly before tucking them in his pocket as the feline began to walk away.
As to the comment of his coat- "I'll keep that in mind." Was all he offered. He said nothing further, just gave him a slight nod of his head.
As Silverwing also walked away Xavier could only shake his head. He had hoped for more of a reaction, but it seems maybe she clung to her beliefs a little stronger than he had anticipated. The hybrid looked over at Drake and shrugged. "Well that could have went better on all accounts."
-
Drake sighed rubbing his eyes. "No kidding..." he muttered as he did this action. He thought about his next words carefully not wanting to enrage Xavier. But he only had one question in mind and there was no honey coating it. "Before we do anything else what is this artifact." He states more then asked. He really wanted to know because if it was rumored to be all powerful maybe he could ask to use it for a bit when it came to the fight against his parent's killers.
-
Camille stood in the moonlight as he awaited Neshar and any other company. Although the moon was not full, his eyes still rested upon the waxing figure in the sky as its light illuminated his cloak and the jackal pulled it over his head. The cloak reflected in brilliant silver; completely outdoing his dark gray and blue clothing. The roses on the designs stood out in the light, and he temporarily became distracted by the fullness of his ability flooded through him. In the court, the people weren't always as allied as their lips said, so such power was extremely limited. The Aelius' casters were not permitted to be in the moon light as much in order to pacify any potential threats they may pose.
Outside of the world of politics, he was warming up to the possibility that he may use his abilities to their full potential. Not many were outside at the time, which drew Camille by surprise. In the cities, it was normally bustling, even after the twilight. However, his eyes blankly looked around for anyone; but were greeted by the emptiness of the village square. Although some windows were illuminated by the lights of their owners, no other lone soul was found within his gaze. Cautiously, he began to walk towards the woods; although still staggering and clearly intoxicated. Knowing that beneath the trees he'd have less power.
Upon arriving on the edge, he stopped as he heard a rustle and snapping of twigs amongst the rest of the night air. He retreated slightly, still quiet and swaying slilghtly as Neshar caught up. He turned quickly, almost falling over as he then met eyes with the member of his party, although not speaking a word. His demeanor had changed for its previous playful, to a more solemn.
-
Neshar silently walked, while his eyes watched the man before him stumble around like a one year old child. A small thought entered his head as he began to wonder about the posterity of him thinking it was a good idea to bring a tipsy mage with him. This was probably only two drinks away from turning into a go collect this, sort of walk… and into a “Escort to and fro and try not to get killed”.
Oh… how he wished he had probably snuck a few more drinks of that wine. If only to have the same cheerful feeling that the other seemed to be presenting. And… wasn’t there something dangerous in these woods at night? His eyes flicked around quietly. The town wasn’t large, so the streets being empty at night was something you’d expect. Nothing to tell him anything from that.
But then, the mage ahead of him spun, nearly tripping his over his own feet. The thief grunted, and quickly stepped forward to help stabilize him. But backed off when he saw that Camille had managed to catch himself. Though, the change in expression did seem to tip the feline off to what he may be feeling.
Neshar raised a brow, and gave the male a pat on the shoulder and continued walking. “From the look on your face, I’d wager you don’t really trust me. I might be a thief, but least I got some form of honor. I don’t steal from allies, and I certainly don’t kill them.”
-
Xavier shook his head helplessly and shrugged. "I truly do not know its exact capabilities or even what it looks like. It may not even be a physical object, it could potentially be some font of magical energy that imbues anyone who touches it. You never know with these things." The hybrid eyes the other hybrid with an unreadable expression. "It is powerful, that's all I can surmise."
He pulled a pocket-watch from his coat and popped it open slightly, checking the dial beneath, though the face of the watch was hidden from Drake. "Was that all you wished to ask me? I could have told the others as much when they were here. There's no point in keeping it from them, half of our group is already aware of the ruse."
-------
The forest was eerily quiet, even the chirp of crickets seemed unusually muffled and meek.
Camille and Neshar could suddenly hear a voice ring out from the darkness of the woods. "Go home, good people. The forest is not safe this night." The voice was a male's certainly, and held no sense of alarm or reproach, though the speaker was nowhere to be seen.
A few leaves rustled as a figure walked out towards them, a small crossbow held casually in each hand. "I said, go ho-... Oh." The man paused as he considered the duo. Visible now, he was wearing some type of red leather armor, though it was so dark as to look almost black in the gloom. His face was obscured by a simple leather mask, and two dark eyes regarded them with some surprise from behind a mop of black hair. "Excuse me strangers, I thought you were from the village." He paused, twirling one of his crossbows expertly. "Still it would be best for you to go home, these woods are unsafe in the dark.... and your friend looks a bit, well, drunk."
-
Drake saw the pocket watch and tried to gauge it from his angle. The only thing that bothered him was the fact it was only slightly opened. "One more thing. You are probably not hunting there artifacts for yourself. So who sent you?" Drake crossed his arms letting the mug of ale loosely hang from his hand. Making sure the liquid didn't spill out as he did so. He needed to know why.
-
[I'll just post again given the time frame :p]
Xavier gave the hybrid an odd look, closing his watch and tucking it back into his pocket. "I must have done a good job of acting if you got the impression that I could be put on a payroll." Was the only answer he offered at first, looking towards the forest and then to the bar as if he was debating on which way to go, his brow furrowing slightly.
"In short, I am here simply for my own reasons. This artifact, when recovered, will go into my care. I would not trust anyone else to handle such a thing." He rubbed the side of his head and looked at the fox-coon sheepishly. "It sounds arrogant, I'm sure."
His eyes shifted to the inn... impossibly, vividly green in the darkness of the night. "I suppose I'll trust those two to return in one piece. I need some rest after that battle today." He spoke up, his cheery tone betrayed by a weary undertone. "That and perhaps our avian companion may need an apology. I feel my attitude could have upset her." He gave a halfhearted wave and took the few steps around the corner and back into the tavern, the door swinging closed quietly behind him.
-
(I am genuinely at a loss on what to have her do, so apologies if this post reads a bit erratically!)
When she had pushed into the building, she had fully intended to catch the eye of the tavern maid and purchase a room in which to rest. Instead she found herself subconsciously heading towards the table with the abnormally cheery man and his companions, the same group Nemael had been paying mind before suddenly departing. She eyed every one of them critically as she approached, noting the distinct drunken flush every last person seemed to bear; eyes glassy as they were drawn into an increasingly deep stupor. Although she balked at the smell wafting from their breath as each took their turn in speaking, she kept her head low and maneuvered around the table. With each person she passed, she would briefly brush her talon'd fingers across fur, skin and scales, gauging what lay beneath the forced cheer or misery imposed by the freely flowing spirits.
It was not until she came upon the two essentially at the center of the gathering that her presence was suddenly noticed, all eyes turning towards her with an eerie clarity. Silverwing's breath caught in her throat, feathers smoothing down and her body subtly twisting to make her appear smaller. Unfortunately with her great stature, such a gesture did little to turn their attention away. She swallowed hard and quickly waved, as though attempting to excuse her presence. "I did not mean to distract you from your celebration--"
Some softened and turned away, though the two at the head only appeared to become more critical. The man's posture had become rigid and stiff, as though what he had consumed suddenly bore no effect on his mental faculties. The woman slightly off to his side appeared to respond similarly, though any sympathy that could be read from the man was completely devoid in her mannerisms. She appeared to be more acutely aware of what Silverwing had been doing when she passed around their group than he did, though she could not verify such thoughts just staring at them. "Ah..." She shuffled awkwardly, waiting for some sort of response as opposed to such dogged looks.
"Mighty curious, love." The woman suddenly spoke as the man simply bowed his head in agreement. His lips were twisted into a barely restrained scowl. "What brought you to our wee grouping?"
Clenching her fingers, Silverwing did not have time to think of a proper response. "I, ah, I saw that you were greatly enjoying yourselves as compared to everyone else here." She waved to the smaller clusters of towns people that still remained, breath hitching in her throat. She felt as though she were being surrounded by flames, these two penning her in before unleashing some hellish beast if she answered incorrectly. "I admit that I was curious and was hoping to join in the revelry? I'm... rather new to this town."
It took every last ounce of her will not to stutter through her words, though her comments did not seem to go over well with the two. They exchanged a quick look between one another before the man gave her the most venomous look she had ever seen. Lifting her hands in a placating gesture, she slowly moved away with a sheepish grin. "I apologize for interrupting--"
"Keep going around like that tonight, it will be bound to take your life," he suddenly snarled. "Don' interrupt us again."
Cracking a nervous laugh, she bowed her head in agreement and fully backed away. Once she felt she was a safe distance, she snuck around to the stairwell and climbed the first few steps. Sagging against the wall, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "The things I do for information," she murmured. Closing her eyes, she slid down the wood until she came into a seated position. Her wings stretched with her arms as she laid one across the rail, leaving the other to rest on her lap. "Spirits."
-
Drake sighed and watched Xavier leave. When he did leave he poured the ale onto the ground next to him and muttered to himself. "Even if i wanted to forget this night i don't want to suffer the hangover the next day..." he then walked in seeing the mood of the tavern fairly different. Maybe he would talk to Silverwing and try to see if he could get a few people to join him as he continued looking for his parents killers. They would probably have to be more careful with those large monster about..
He placed the mug onto the counter and eyed the large kegs to the side for a second. No still not alluring. "I would like a room for the night."
-
"Trust is a weapon. It's very wise to keep ones weapons sheathed.." He grumbled lowly to the other, "I am a manipulator of life, killing me wouldn't be easy." He looked away from Neshar and quickly stumbled backward out of the thief's grip as the other stranger cautioned them. The edges of his cloak sharpened slightly, pulling from its sides before reforming into its normal material as he bat his ears and then glared at the newest person to make contact with him.
"The woods aren't very safe in the day, either." He smirked at the other as his hand gripped the thief's wrist. Pulling him slightly behind him, and although he wasn't sure the direction he was headed, the jackal marched through the brush stubbornly. "We'll be fine." Steps fairly heavy due to his intoxication, although his speech wasn't slurring as bad anymore. The cloak shifted over and then crystallized in the form of a vest over Camille's back and the sides of his torso, in a similar material like the one he'd used in the prior fight. It kept a faint glow in the dark; making the jackal quite visible when combined with the moon's light. Stopping and leading Neshar ahead a bit, so that he may take the lead. "I may be drunk, but I can still protect myself. And well," He chuckled a bit looking at the thief with his trademark smirk, his stagger dissipating slowly as he began to sober: slowly, but surely. "A figure who blindly kisses as boldly as you do should be able to protect himself."
-
((These two are practically quasi boy friends @_@; ))
“Trust is a kindness, it’s good to express it,” The feline retorted with a bemused expression. His gaze following the other as he stumbled back. He chuckled softly, now tuning to the stranger as he approached, “Oh come on hunny, scared to be seen with me to the public eye?”
His eyes finally settled down on the stranger. His smile, suddenly thined as he eyed his appearance. This… did not seem to be good. He’s heard of very few types of people that duel wielded light crossbows. Demon hunters, and assassins. The first one is possibly a warning for what may be ahead of them. The second is bad news in general. If he was an assassin, and after the bounty on his head… Neshar might not be able to stand toe to toe like he had the others. He had an heir that just seemed beyond professional… masterful? Yes… close to that.
Either way, neither of those two were good news in general. But at least it was far less of an assassin and closer to a demon hunter. He was warning of them of dangers.
“I…” He began thoughtfully, only finding himself now cut off as Camile spoke. Then started to tug him along. He planted his foot to stop them from continuing any further.
“I’ll take your word for it good sir! But would you care to join us? If not, then enlighten us on the dangers that haunt the woods tonight? Be it demon, bahamur, cloaker, or crux? A fiend, an abysmal, necro, or death. Or… an anu’s breath?” He turned to Cam with a raised brow and smile.
-
Xavier had caught the tail end of that exchange with the avian when he walked into the tavern, his eyes narrowing threateningly at the table of villagers for a moment. While Silverwing had proven that she was not his friend, he was not giving up on the idea that they could be comrades at the least. Aside from that, their behavior was particularly out of place in the celebratory mood of the tavern. He briefly considered vaporizing the lot of them on the spot. He was exceptionally tired, but a bunch of unsuspecting peasants could hardly defend against his magic.
The otter-wolf shook his head to clear his thoughts, inwardly chiding himself for even entertaining such notions. He heard a faint voice in the corner of him mind snicker before falling silent, and not for the first time today he was reminded that he was host to such a voice. Bloodlust, hatred, contempt. A darkness that clung to the corners of his mind like cobwebs, but would flood his every thought and desire if he surrendered so much as an eye-blink of time to it.
These thoughts ran through his mind and he brushed them away with a wave of his hand as he came to the stairway, ignoring the people behind him. He nearly stepped on the giant form of Silverwing as he rounded the corner, but he stopped short. He gave her a look of knowing and a small smile before he stepped past her. "Pay no mind to them." He advised. On a normal day he may have stopped to chat but he was exhausted from the battle earlier that day, and was greatly desiring a bath and a good night's rest.
-------
The masked man seemed to take pause as Camille started off, his eyes following the pair without the faintest flicker of emotion of concern. When Neshar pulled the pair to a stop, the leather-clad male just motioned towards the woods casually.
"There was a big battle earlier today, a lot of monsters were slain. Carnivores and scavengers are running amok all over the place, fresh meat being plentiful tonight and all." He took a step towards the pair, and inspected them both critically.
"Though I suppose you'd know something about that, hmm?" He ventured, and he took a step back. As he did so, two similarly dressed men came out of the shadows to either side of him, seeming to materialize out of the night itself. Their red garbs seemed to almost leak shadows into the night as they stood there, wisps of darkness trailing from their clothing. The soft and oh-so subtle tingle of magic echoing through Camille and Neshar's senses.
"Thanks for taking care of that pesky Hound. We really appreciate it." He said, his eyes betraying the smile that hid beneath the leather mask. "But really, stay in town tonight. Enjoy yourselves. You don't want to go out there." He added, the two figured to either side of him remaining silent, their expressions revealing as much as the impenetrable darkness of the forest.
-
As Drake set up his room his mind started wandering as it normally did when he started getting tired. Thinking of wild possibilities which shouldn't even be thought about. Then something came to mind the job itself was odd and they were hoping to grossly under pay the people who slew the monster. Could it be possible that someone was trying to get the treasure artifact before them... it can't be... but it wouldn't hurt to share the idea. He sort of lost focus as this idea came across his mind hearing the barmaid snap her fingers by his head pulling him from his thoughts. "Sorry i guess I'm a little more tired than i thought..."
The barmaid smiled and said. "Not a problem after doing what you did i wouldn't be too surprised. Would you like a meal brought up to your room?"
Drake paused far second as he thought about it. "That would be nice."
The barmaid nodded with a faint smile then handed Drake a key for his room. He snatched it up and nodded to the barmaid in thanks. Drake held onto the key as he walked over to the stairs seeing the duo from before. Nah he was probably just being paranoid either way if it was true they wouldn't be able to fight off the enemies that were there. He raised a hand in hello and said. "Turning in early?"
-
"Fine." The jackal grumbled lowly as more time was used from the quartet conversing. Visibly irate and started to fall from his buzz, Camille turned his back towards the city quietly. His vest reformed into its normal cloak and he held a hand on his head as he continued to trudge to the inn, doing up his hair and now walking with near no stagger besides what was caused by the uneven parts in the ground. "I'm going to bed. Whatever happens here or in there is not my fault."
With his normal step he walked forward, although it was rather quicker now that he wasn't fumbling. Still glowing in the moonlight, he entered the inn and then peered around with his hood back on. Not stopping to speak to anyone, he then took residence in the room and began to sleep off the liquor he'd ingested earlier that evening.
-
The feline’s eyes narrowed as the masked man mentioned the battle earlier. A bit of worry now poked at his heart. Had this man been watching the entire time? Might be… he hadn’t actively been looking for any signs of someone watching. But what of the abilities that Neshar revealed? Thinking back… he only showed signs of a constrained shadow step. And arrows.
He might be in trouble if they witnessed his assault on the bandits, but that seemed unlikely. This man had priorities. Looking into to many things would only be unnecessary for someone like him. Or at least Neshar hoped.
And then… the two more men, wearing the same clothing, appeared. None of them seemed to display any signs of magic. His eyes normally would have been able to pick them out. Even in pitch black, his softly glowing eyes would have been able to spot them clear as day. So… either these gentlemen were using magic. Or… Neshar was too distracted to notice them.
Then he spoke of the hound once more. Neshar’s mind started to click, running over a few details.
Pesky hound? They’re interested in something that it kept them away from. It might have been better to have let the damned beast live at this rate. Reguardless…
“Oh not a problem!” The felined hum now rocking on his toes. His brow raising a bit when he looked to the two other’s expressions. He did a fairly decent job at feigning a severe discomfort. Well… it’s just a matter of nudging what he already felt a bit further.
“Er… right… town. Sounds good… actually yeah… I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept… hm…” With that… the feline turned tail and followed his friend. His hand resting on Cyrils back.
His ear was listening carefully to see if they were being followed. Not by footsteps. No… by disturbance in the environment. Men like these would probably be too good to not make a normal foot step sound. But it’s hard to avoid disturbing a mouse, cracking a few twigs, rustling some grass, and shifting some leaves if you’re trying to keep up with the two.
When they were a fair distance away from the encounter zone, the feline focused on one of his spells, then released it. He felt a tug on his mind as a creature born of shadows was brought into existence. It stood, nearly invisible in the darkness. It’s eyes focused on him. It’s appearance if discernable was a silhouette of Neshar himself.
“Command?” A voice rasped demandingly in his mind. Neshar’s subordinate personality this time?
“Three gentlemen behind us…” the feline thought. He provided a mental picture of the group he has seen along with his command. “Follow them. Stay out of sight.”
There was no confirmation. Only a slight easing on his mind as the creature took off into the night. Now… that left one final thing to do.
The feline slipped a constrained coin into the male’s cloak before falling back, letting him pull ahead. He slowly turned around and gazed back to the forest. His eyes scanning among the trees for anything unusual. When he was sure he was safe, he slipped his mask on.
The mask served a few other useful purposes other than hiding his face. One of them was that it had a thin layer of cloth that reduced the glow of his eyes to something barely noticeable. The second was that it acted as a small bit of armor in case some jerk threw a knife at his face.
Once the mask was on, the feline stalked through the forest. He kept low, effortlessly crawling through cover at an efficient speed without once rustling a bush or disturbing an animal. Instincts honed from childhood and training drove him. His ears remained alert, listening for the faintest hint of vibrations or heart beats. His eyes focused on every detail that did not belong.
If it was one thing he was going to accomplish tonight… it was either collecting that equipment for the group. Or discovering those strangers’ intent.
-
[In the interest of time I am going to PM Neshar about his trip during the night, so that we can keep everyone else engaged in the present.]
It was perhaps mid-morning when Xavier awoke suddenly. The image that greeted his blurry vision was the gently-lit planks of the wooden ceiling, and he lay still for a long moment before blinking and bringing a paw up to his eyes. The movement caused some discomfort, and the feeling of soreness brought back memories of the previous day. Memories of a battle and the magical healing that kept his arm intact came back in a rush, and he groaned softly to himself. He was tired, but there was much to do, and he had already slept more than he had planned.
A look around the room revealed that Camille had returned at some point, and was laying across the room face-down on the bed. It looked like he had simply walked in and passed out, which given his behavior last night was not a far-fetched notion. The hybrid rubbed a paw across his face, feeling the bristle of whiskers and the sleek silkiness of his fur. It was a slow and deliberate motion, and he sighed quietly to himself as his paw fell back to his lap. His coat was hanging from the bedpost as it usually was when he woke, albeit from a different bed. He stood and donned the garment, trying to move quietly so as not the waken his room-mate., then stepped out the door.
He made his way downstairs, the common room of the tavern much more tame than it had been the previous night. He picked up the scents of cooking eggs and spiced meats, and decided suddenly that a hot breakfast was not a terrible idea. The air was chill as it filtered in through the front door, and he could see the dampness of morning dew on the grass. It would likely be a pleasant day if the weather held.
Hopefully none of the previous day's companions had run off during the night or earlier this morning, but he would look for them later. Xavier was not quite ready to deal with the looming trouble just yet.
-
(For some reason writing eases my migraines, so here we go!)
If sleep was for the weak, it would have made Silverwing a god. Spinning 'round on one of the stools that had found itself in some random corner of the room, talon'd feet clawed at the floor to keep the momentum going. Although her posture was relatively demure and her shoulders slouched ever so slightly, the strange bird seemed to be enjoying her time greatly. To the point that she was making little noises in her throat as she began to turn ever faster, no signs of nausea or discomfort displaying on her beak. In fact she would continue to do this for a time until she picked up the sound of claws scraping across the wooden floor. Digging her own into the ground, thin strands of wood curled with the motion as she literally screeched to a stop, effectively ruining the paneling.
Glancing up, she watched as Xavier clambered down the stairs and appeared to consider what to do next. Grinning wide, she waved a friendly 'hello' before climbing out of the chair and accidentally knocked it to the floor, her bulk making the furniture look as though it were made for gnomes. While she made no attempt to approach the hybrid or even speak to him, she was letting him know she was there for anything. Whether it was for a discussion on the weather or a subject far more in-depth it did not matter. She was open and raring for anything that came her way, or at least that was what she had convinced herself of. Of course, if she had not actually slept, she may well be on her way to borderline delirium.
"Itching to fly," she murmured to no one in particular. Attempting to scratch between the feathers underneath the magical arm cuffs, she huffed loudly when it had no effect and instead turned to pick up the chair. Sitting back down, she would begin to spin again, seeming to enjoy what she was doing far more than what should be normal for a grown adult. Then again, this was her normality; no spells or suddenly developed insanity here. "Sleep well?" She suddenly said to Xavier.
-
Drake spent a few hours writing up some complex magical formulas before going to bed. Doing so tends to ease his mind and he made significant progress on his spell that he was currently refining. He fell asleep at the high of night and woke up at day break. His mind was fully rested but he was fairly sore because of the fight the previous day most of it being on his back which was where he landed when he was flung from the creature. Everything else was perfectly fine.
He didn't have a roommate to worry about so he groaned and yawned as much as he wanted as he clothed himself to return to the tavern floor. He made sure all of his belongings were gathered together too before he exited the room and left with his satchel slung over his shoulder.
As he came down the stairs he smelled the wonderful breakfast scents emanating from the kitchen. He wasn't exactly hungry at this time and decided to delve back into his calculations. By the time Xavier came down Drake was pretty much ready for breakfast. he returned his objects into his satchel and got in line to ordered breakfast letting Xavier and Silverwing talk.
-
Camille awoke a while after Xavier, room spinning slightly as the alcohol was still in his body. Getting up and leaning on the side of his bed, the jackal's hair was a mess and the rest of him could be worse. Although not hungover, he still felt rather tingly from the bottle of brandy. With a yawn, he attempted to fix the braid in his hair and after a bit of difficulty succeeded. A few messy flyaways were on his fringe, although without a mirror he couldn't exactly notice it.
Putting his robe back on, he stretched and popped a few joints before he remembered what happened before he slept. With a large frown he barged open the door and almost tripped on his cloak. The absolute essence sarcastic of majesty entered the room, slightly rubbing his head and with a stark displeasure. His gaze fell upon the group of people in the tavern, although missing one. He shrugged apathetically and approached his group, almost tripping on his cloak again and tossing it behind him after that.
Abruptly approaching the surface beside them, he bumped both hands on the table and looked to the trio, while leaning over it. "Might wanna scarf that food down. Some shady people in forest last night and we need to go check it out." He grumbled hazily, although obtaining some water and drinking it down rather quickly. With a hiccup, "Don't know where Neshar is.. But he'd be able to break it down. Was kinda, well you guys know. Not that the information matters too much, all y'all need to know is they're up to something bad."
-
Calaiuryon was brushing her knotted hair. It seemed like it had been ages since she last had a good brushing. Twigs and grass got caught up in her brush along with clumps of hair. Sighing and frowning Calai put down her brush to get dressed. She picked up her quiver full of arrows, her dagger holsters, and long bow, then stepped outside. The door to her cottage squeeked slightly as it opened and let the morning light seep in. Calai stretched and yawned, preparing herself for the new day. She decided to go to the local tavern for a bite to eat. As she walked she greeted several towns folk with a simple and friendly wave. She opened the tavern door and walked up to the bar, her shoes crunching dirt onto the floor...
-
It wasn’t much longer before Neshar pushed his way inside. He was wearing a cloak once more, and looked dreadfully tired. Reasonable given the feline hadn’t actually tried to sleep… or eat much sense about a day or so ago. It’d probably also explain the uncharacteristic grumpiness, displayed by him lazily putting his hand on some big oafs face, and shoving him into a table.
Eventually the feline sat down at his party’s table, then let his chin drop down to the wooden surface. Hard. “Good morning everyone! Good news and bad news! I can’t tell you either yet because it will have to wait till we are somewhere else. Oh… and we need to get moving…. Soon.”
The feline’s eyes soon turned to a nearby plate full of food. His ears perking, “Are you going to eat that?”
-
The hybrid took a seat relatively near to the large avian female after retrieving his food, though not directly adjacent to her. She seemed to be out of sorts, and he did not want to risk having her trip and fall into him while he was eating. "Better than I expected to." He replied honestly, though he still looked like he wished to sleep more. "I never rest as well on dry land." He grumbled, though continued speaking without waiting for a reply. "Have you decided to join us for the time being? I am unclear on your abilities, but if Nemael suggested you would be useful..." He paused and shrugged. "I would trust him to be correct."
He saw Drake stand up from his peripheral, and turned slightly to watch him go get some breakfast. Otherwise the two were left fairly undisturbed until Camille came down the stairs, looking a little less rough than Xavier would have expected, but certainly not entirely unphased by last night's activities. After he spoke Xavier just motioned for him to sit down. "We'll be quick, but get a few glasses of water before we head out. You look like you need it."
Xavier was halfway through his food when the few missing people filtered into the room. He was mid-drink when Neshar came in. Xavier set down his wooden cup of cold water, looking rather intrigued that the man had come from outside and not from upstairs, and appeared to have had about as much rest as Silverwing. Another individual walked in behind him, that Xavier quickly glanced over due to the quiver of arrows on her back, but his attention was quickly diverted as Neshar sank down against the table after pushing a particularly large fellow over into a table... making enough noise that pretty much everyone in the room looked over at them.
"Uh.." Xavier began, before the big hedgehog that Neshar had pushed over loomed up behind the shadowdancer. The tavern was silent as the man began yelling.
"What's your problem, cat!?" The oaf bellowed, reaching down to try and grab neshar around the neck. His face was flushed with indignant rage, though clearly those at the table knew he was probably about to suffer further humiliation.
-
Noting the presence of the other party members as they began to trickle down into the tavern, she finally stopped her barely controlled spin on the chair and furrowed her brows, gaze coming to rest on Xavier. The corner of her mouth pulled into a taut frown, looking almost ready to scold the hybrid for some unforeseen circumstance when she suddenly perked up and grinned wide. "Though I may speak from a spot of bias, Nemael would never have roped me into... this if he thought I would provide little to your party." Her smirk grew as she continued to peer at him, though the look was offset by the way her muscles drew taut beneath her feathers and how her wings seemed to erratically twitch every few minutes. However, whatever may be on the birds mind would remain unstated as Neshar apparently concluded it was best to shove a large brute.
Gaze finally moving from Xavier to the hedgehog, she propped her chin on her palm and snickered. Loudly. Cocking her head to the left ever so slightly, she watched as the situation began to unfold in the most natural course it could take. While she was not a betting woman, she knew the massive beast stood little chance against the lithe feline. Even if the man did think he had the upper hand due to sheer strength and unlikely-to-be-true fortitude. "Unless you have a fantastic healer on hand, I recommend you back away. He does not look to be in a mood to play nice." The only warning she was going to give, she idly turned about to watch as someone new and quite unusual walked in through the doors.
Well then!
-
The jackal grumbled and knocked Neshar's shoulder with a shake of his head. He looked toward Xavier with a squint before to Silverwing. "I suppose you don't know, but I can work some magic.." He grumbled as he sat back to watch his... Acquaintance begin to deal with the stranger which he had so rudely harmed. "But I don't think he's worth it, after getting himself into said situation." Crossing his arms after drinking a glass of his water and still fixing his hair, Camille awaited the event to finish.
Visibly impatient, he was more bent on getting the last word on the men he'd seen last night. Definitely not to deal with strangers at the bar.
-
Drake didn't bother himself with the situation that started to unfold. It wasn't worth his time so he didn't worry. He then sat down at the table with Xavier and co an began eating. Once everyone was ready he would voice what he thought of last night.
-
Oh… this table felt delightfully comfortable. The feline could just… his jaws fell open into a gentle yawn as his head rolled over onto it’s cheek. Yep… he could just take a nap on this table right now. The thief closed his eyes and nuzzled deep into the fine grain mahogany platform. The world was quiet, and the air was warm. Pleasant smells all around him. Yep… this was paradise.
That… was till some lug behind him started yelling at him. Oh buggers… must he do this now? The feline opened an eye, an annoyed glint filled his eyes as it swiveled to look to the towering thug. And then he felt his neck being grabbed. Yup… this hog really has to do this now.
The felines on suing reaction was something that was bred from training, plus trauma and paranoia from war for something like this to come from a thief that was physically and mentally exhausted. His tail immediately bristled as his eyes shot wide open. In one fluid motion the thief spun about, his body leaning against the table as his arm swept out and trapped the other male’s underneath his own, and locked them tight.
His arm appeared as it practically vanished and reappeared in a mere heartbeat before a loud crack filled the air. The arm had left behind a trail of thin shadowy mist in it’s wake before the side of his hand had made contact with the hedgehogs lower’s jaw. The strike seemed to have severely damaged the bone, as the jaw bent out of shape.
Next, Neshar gripped the man and stomped down hard on his knee. He didn’t bother to check for the damage, instead he continued on with what he started. Just as the hedgehog dropped to his knee’s the feline twisted once more, falling out of his chair but catching himself on his toes.
The hedgehogs head was brought down hard onto the table. Hard enough to rattle the plates, tankards, and silverwear resting on it. As the hedgehogs head bounced up, the cat caught it with both hands and brought it down again, this time adding his weight into it.a
-
The hybrid seemed relatively nonplussed by the exchange, just watching with a curious sort of expression. That was, until Neshar hit the man with enough force to mangle his jaw. Xavier's eyes widened slightly at that, and when it became clear that the shadowdancer was going to continue to assault the man, Xavier stood quickly and lunged over the table.
He wasn't quick enough to stop the first impact, the whole table rattling, glass and silverware making a jarring noise. "Enough!" He called out, his arm reached out and attempting to hold the hedgehog's head away from the table. He had little leverage, though, and even his substantial strength didn't fully stop the impact. This time, however, the likely unconscious man's head hit his fingers instead of the table edge.. probably sparing him a serious wound. Instead Xavier hissed a breath as his fingers were heavily crushed into the wood, but he didn't remove them.
"Enough." He growled, reiterating his earlier statement. He was extended across the length of the table, having flung himself forward in order to reach. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He didn't need to add that the last blow may well have killed the man, who as far as Xavier knew was just an extremely unlucky idiot. The mage glared at the shadow-dancer and removed his hand, flexing his damaged digits gingerly. It was only then that he noticed the entire tavern was staring at them, most in shock, some in outright fear.
"Let's go..." The hybrid grumbled, addressing the statement to the table of adventurers in general. If they stayed it was only going to invite more trouble, and he doubted this town had enough law enforcement to deal with Neshar alone, much less the whole group of them. He was not so subtly reminded that these people were strangers, and dangerous at that.
-
Drake was also surprised by the sudden flurry of unnecessary violence. But before the hedgehog's head made contact with the table he scooped up his plate and milk not wanting it to spill and waste everywhere. He stared at the feline with curiosity and a bit of fear. Sure he could do that with a bit of his magic but a surprise completely setting him off and assaulting a man to death if it wasn't for Xavier. he set his plate and drink down once everything calmed down and heard Xavier tell everyone that they should go. And Drake didn't argue with that. He quickly scooped up a few more spoonfuls of food then drank a few more swigs of his milk not wanting to starve before lunch. He then placed some money by his plate and a little extra as a apology for neshar's behavior and to pay for any unforseen damages. He then followed the rest of the group out making sure he didn't leave anything behind before he did so.
-
It took a voice for Neshar to snap out of his panicked frenzy. His eyes blinked, as he regained some semblance of lucidity. He looked at the male’s head he held between both of his hands, and grimaced. His eyes flicked upwards, immediately spotting the glare he was reciving from Xavier. The feline’s ears flicked back as his eyes turned away with a guilty look.
He hadn’t needed the command to tell that they needed to leave. Not the first time he’s been in some morally ambiguous situations. Though the law enforcement? He might be a veteran in the criminal underground, but he was no murderer. He’d sooner run, than harm some peace keeper. No need to be a complete heartless monster.
Regardless, the feline clung to the table for a moment to regainhimself, his arms twitching from a sudden influx of adrenaline. Once he felt composed enough, he stood up, and placed a handful of coins onto the table. For damages if any. Then dropped the coin purse onto the bruiser after pulling a small collection of coins, for medical. May be overpaying… but he certainly did not want to stay any longer.
He was quick to leave through the door. His tail still bristled, was just only beginning to lay it’s fur flat once again.
-
Calai was munching along when suddenly the group behind her had caused quite the scene. She was minding her own business and trying to hurry herself when she overheard something. "They need a healer?" She thought to herself, "It would be nice to have a group once again. I hope they aren't always like this, but it can't hurt to try." The commotion had stopped and some of them began to head out. Calaiuryon wiped her mouth and threw down her money in a hurry. "Wait!" She called out to the group, "I couldn't help but overhear you need a healer. Is that correct?" She squinted her right eye and raised her eyebrows waiting for a hopefully unharsh response.
-
"For the love of..." Camille grumbled lowly, looking to the newcomer. "Hurry up, we got places to be!" He wasn't the most welcoming member, and his sharp temper was flared. But if she was interested in competing with the jackal's light magic, he'd probably lash her quite a bit beforehand.
"Xavier, do your leading thing..." He nodded towards the new one and crankily approached Neshar with his arms crossed.
"Thief, what information on the trio from last evening do you have? Where were we, and you think that they are still there?" His tone was slightly demanding, and the sunlight warmly shined from his cloak. He rose his hood once more, scratching his head and sighing long. The early morning mess that had been created by the venture in the tavern had been enough to combine with every other part of the situation. Seeming as aggressive as he felt, he was focused on getting that trio, or at least entering the woods once more, and this time he wasn't going to take no for an answer.
-
Xavier did not stop walking, but he did slow down considerably when he heard someone call out. He pushed the tavern door open so that the others could go through, nodding to Camille as he went past. Apparently he was the leader now? Fair enough. The others did not seem as if they had much experience working as a group, where as the otter-wolf had quite a bit. Granted he had never had to try to control a group quite so chaotic by nature as this one. "Keep an eye on him." He said quietly, nodding towards Neshar, who had already stalked outside. He didn't figure he needed to explain why.
Xavier motioned for the girl to follow them, and once she had come outside he let the door swing closed, entirely ignoring the other patrons of the tavern. It was going to be a long day already, and he was not fond of dealing with the common people of the land. They tended to be a bit ignorant for his tastes. he paused just outside the door, however, looking the female over. She was the one who had walked in earlier that had caught his eye, as much for her unusual appearance as for the fact that she carried a weapon in plain sight. He had noticed that nobody else had reacted to her, so she must be a local.... or had been here for several days prior.
"A healer?" He questioned, his eyes examining her antlers for a moment before returning to her face. "We have a healer of sorts, but hiring another would not be a terrible idea..." A small smile crept onto his face and he held out a paw, his webbed fingers marked with more than a few scars, the silver markings shining through the brown of his fur. "I'm Xavier, and as of ten seconds ago I am in charge of screening new people for our..." he paused, looking over at the others. "...group." He finished, his tail giving a slight flick to one side as he said the word.
-
The feline was leaning on a railing looking glumly out into the busy streets. Partly tired, partly annoyed, partly disappointed in himself. But… that would have to wait for later. His tail flicked, displaying his annoyance as he watched the folk.
Where the in the blue hell did all those people come from? A question he found himself asking repeatedly last night. He couldn’t even recall seeing any groups of people on the outskirts, besides the bandits he had slaughtered. Not by choice of course, they attacked first.
But then he heard a voice speak behind himself. Thief? Already forgot his name? Geeze and after a kiss like that.
“I have a name, Neshar, thank you,” The feline hummed, now slowly turning around so his back was on the railing. He spoke again, but instead of hostility, there was a gentle note of annoyance. “Also what the hell crawled up your ass? You weren’t the one that was crawling through the world’s most hostile woods this little country side has seen alone lacking two days of sleep and food. Or accepted the fact that you might be beheaded in a moment’s notice when you turn around. Ooor felt like someone wanted you to snoop around to do the dirty work for them, because you’d be too brain-dead to put up much of a fight when it's time to collect.”
The feline crossed his arms and looked up to the sky with annoyed grimmace. His eyes then contemplatively dropped down to the towns people. He pulled the map, and monster scrolls he had collected from his journey last night from his bag and tossed them to the party's acting leader. "Yeah that last feeling had me contemplating just burning what I have all damn night, and looking over my shoulders for eyes. Two of those guys wen't missing, one remained in place. Three guys with enough skill to bypass my scrutiny of all people, and the only hindrance I found was a bell alarm."
His voice dipped into a softer tone, leaving it only audible to the group nearby. It was thoughtful, but careful. His eyes flicked back to the group as well. "Two different parties wanted the hound dead. We were the ones that were capable enough to kill it. We run into a group of unknown hostiles, that took care to keep out of sight when I was actively searching for them while ascertaining information. I've been in the criminal underworld and a military infiltrator and commando for too freaking long to not see this as a lead into a cage, and we're the game."
His grimace deepened into a frown. It may be his paranoia... but last night the town was empty. Could that faction have...
Neshar whistled to a nearby lad and his group of friends and beckoned them closer. He smiled kindly as he dropped down, leaving both hands up on the railing.
"The lot of you look like you've been here for some time. Do you know how many people moved into town in the past few months? Maybe grown ups leaving town?" It was just his paranoia... but his instincts have rarely ever lead him astray.
-
Calaiuryon had no idea how to react, but thankfully the leader, soon after, introduced himself. He held out his paw. Calai grabbed it with her hand firmly and shook it,"My name is Calaiuryon, but you can call me Calai. Thanks for letting me join you." When she was done shaking his paw she scratched the underside of her hair. It was so ratty and messy, it itched fairly often. Calai had no idea what she had gotten herself into. "So...what is it that you guys do exactly?" She asked, following close behind the leader. Calaiuryon hoped for a good answer. Were they bandits? Pirates? Helpers? Questers? Guardians? She just hoped for the best. Calai wasn't going to miss this town though, she hadn't been there for much more than a month. It was about time she got some action and adventure in her life.
-
"It sounds like you've forgotten that nobody here asked or forced you to do that." The jackal squinted carefully at the feline. "You cannot take your own actions and then attack others because of it. It's nobody's fault except your own that you are tired and cranky." He loomed carefully before the boys were called, piercing gaze upon the tired individual. "I should care to remind you, that if your tired ass makes a mistake in a fight and gets caught by one of these fellows who are... Skilled enough to bypass you, the main thing sticking between your squishy ass and certain death is us. You pop like a bug; remember that, and with all of our hefty folk taking a leave of absence or high tailing it after they've claimed the bounty, looks like I'm the main front line."
He grit his teeth and kept the gaze locked seriously. "I don't think you understand.. You may do reconnaissance, but as a fellow who has implied he's trained as such, it'd be much easier for someone like you to escape. But in the heat of the fight, if you guys decide to mess up.. Well let's just say not all of us can dash out so quick. Remember that, next time you think I'm just being a prick." He broke his gaze as the children approached. Crossing his arms to let everyone else do the talking, already in a mood more bitter than his brandy.
-
[Drake posted in another thread that he may not be able to post until Friday, so I'm gonna go ahead and post again so we can keep things moving :p]
Xavier smiled at the girl briefly, his attention soon shifting pulled towards where Camille and Neshar were speaking. He watched them for a short moment before he heard her ask him what it was that they did. He grinned a little, finding it humorous that she was so eager to join a band of characters such as this without having any idea as to what it was she was joining. He turned back towards her. "Well, I will let you know once I find that out." He replied, failing to stifle a chuckle.
"At present, though, we are investigating disturbances in the area. Primarily the Hound of Lockwise, which you have no doubt heard of. We killed it just yesterday afternoon." He said, brows furrowing slightly. "However it appears there may be some intrigue involved with WHY that monstrosity was here in the first place, so presently we are returning to the battlefield and possibly deeper into the woods." The otter-wolf explained.
"On that note we did, if you heard Camille just now, lose about half of our group once the bounty had been collected so we are significantly weaker. If we get into any fights it is going to get hairy." He looked at her carefully. "If you can't hold your own in a fight you had best stay here. We will be hard pressed to protect ourselves, so don't think we can guard you."He thought a moment then carefully added. "Not that we won't try."
There was a rustle of feathers from behind them and Xavier turned to regard Silverwing, who had finally exited the tavern. "I made sure that man was not dead." She explained shortly, then looked over her shoulder. "Some business came up, however, so I will be absent for a time. I will return as soon as I possibly can, but for now you four-" She paused and looked at Calai. "-five will have to fend for yourselves." Xavier opened his mouth to question her but she held up a hand. "I know, but it is not something I can easily explain and it is urgent." To which the hybrid just eyed her and nodded. "See you when you return, then."
As the giant avian nodded and walked off in the other direction Xavier directed Calai's gaze to the rest of the group. "As I was saying, we have lost a lot of our muscle. Still, if there's treasure to be had we will split the pay evenly among us. Nobody here is technically in charge, we just try not to get in each other's way."
-
Neshar looked to Camile with a frown, but didn’t verbally respond. He wasn’t exactly worried about his own neck when it came to his suspicions and paranoia. Life would be much easier if it was just him with a regular rogue’s code. If he screwed up, it’s just him that bites the nail. But no, it couldn’t be that way. And he couldn’t shake off the itch that he was feeling they were all just being lead into doing the work for them.
The feline let out a light sigh, and shook his head as if saying he had nothing else to say for the matter. He’d instead wait until the brief orientation to the delightful group was given to the new girl before he continued on.
“Now if you two are done…” He hummed softly as he crouched down and opened up the map he had found. He spread it across the wood, and used a few rocks to hold the corners down. The map showed a much older era of the area, detailing a road that was long buried or ripped up by the elements, and a castle somewhere in the distance. Likely a ruins by now.
He then laid down the scrolls he had also lifted earlier in the night. He thought about what he had found… but maybe it’d just be better to keep his suspicions down. After all, one person didn’t seem to share the same sort of instincts he had.
He looked to Calai with a warm smile and gave her a wave then chirped, “I’m Neshar”, before looking back down to the rest of the group.
“I’m gonna go ahead and brief. We’re not the only ones looking for… well whatever it is. There is a secondary, and larger faction.” The feline hummed. He then frowned as he bit back a few details. “These guys are organized. Matching robes, clear and defined duties, loyalty, and officers. Given the association of the three that Camile and I have seen…” Possibly hostile. But they did do some of our work for us. Ergo the map, and these…”
He pointed to the scrolls and opened a few of them. “They’ve been researching monsters in the area. Trust me… they won’t be too pleased with the fact that I stole these from them.”
“Then as for the validity of the map… I’ve confirmed it” The feline then pulled two carved stones from his bag and placed them down. Two stones often used for roads, it looks like the feline had spent a good portion of the night digging these up from two locations, as they are partially wet and covered in deep fertile soil.
-
Drake was sitting back simply listening the whole time. Well he didn't want to say anything about hus suspicions last night but well it seemed like they were right. He listened to Neshar's information not particularly interested in the new recruit then simply picked up some of the scrolls for the creature research and started looking through them. He was a academic by nature so any useful knowledge that he can easily gain was great. Also considering how different and dangerous the creatures are it would be good to get some knowledge.
-
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A familiar voice called out among the gathering. It wasn't really all that hard to find the group of misfits again, given their current location – outside, not too far from the tavern, which was where the bully had been heading when he'd run into them once more. The sight was almost as silly as the small fire pit they'd formed in front of the bounty board their first time he'd come across them, only now instead of a fire, there was that odd man from battle, a thief more than likely from the gear, hunched over a some paper. They all seemed busy chattering about something...
The bully clasped his hands together with an oddly manic expression. Perhaps this was luck's way of pointing him in some sort of direction as opposed to his usual wandering. After all, it was luck that had caused him to recognize, at the very least the hybrid, Xavier. It was hard not to with the man's bright clothing. “Just as quaint as I remember, too, that's good.” The bully nodded to himself, crossing his arms to get a better look at everyone, and maybe to sneak a glance at the paper below. They were surely getting into something again. Maybe a treasure hunt, judging by the map they were inspecting. “Was the hound not enough to satiate?” he chuckled, honestly curious. It appeared than in the small amount of time, the canine had taken the time to at least clean and bandage himself up as cloth had been wrapped around the bite he'd received from one of the hounds on the section between his shoulder and neck and the area on his arm where he'd grabbed the hound's tongue. That didn't keep him from looking at the very least playfully imposing.
-
The jackal turned his focus to the returning member of their party. He ran his eyes from his head to toe, crossing his arms a bit. Still ill tempered as ever, he kept quiet until the second question was asked. "Turns out, we probably screwed the pooch, rather than just killed it." He nodded his head at the approaching member's wounds, face showing his evident cranky mood. "Remove the cloth. We're going to have to get you healed up if you intend to fight with us, because you're going to be getting rather well acquainted with some folk who may stab rather than slobber."
With a glance over Neshar's map, and then a grunt. "In the court, when older things are found, only the ambitious decide to toil away." He scoffed, "Looks like we may have done a bit more damage than good. Don't know what they want, but it'd probably be safer to behead them before we find out."
Now more awake, Camille was definitely feeling the headstrong part of himself. He really wanted a piece of what he was forced to back down from, and was most certainly feeling extremely impatient. Kicking up dust, he was tiring of small chat; whether or not it was his strong point. His gaze looked to the party. His gaze falling upon the new member Calai, he didn't say much before looking back to the documents evidence Neshar had taken. The prospect of another healer was something that made him feel threatened.. But then again, nobody likes being outclassed.
-
The fawn backed away from the group slowly, shaking her head a little. It was clear that the notion of taking on monsters of that caliber with this ragtag bunch did not sit well with her. "I.. uh... maybe next time." She replied, smiling apologetically before turning on her heel and walking quickly away in the other direction. Xavier just shook his head a little and moved to rejoin the others, looking over Neshar's shoulder.
His ears perked when Mort strode up, the hybrid smiling to himself. "Welcome back." he said, looking up from the map and scrolls laid out before them. The bully was not unwelcome in his eyes, certainly they would have fared far worse in their fight with the Hound had he not been there. Plus, as far as Xavier was concerned, he was one of the more straightforward of their little band, a trait that was greatly appreciated. As Camille moved over to inspect his injuries the hybrid also walked over and dipped a shallow bow. "As our friend has said, there's a good chance that there are other powers at play here." Then with a wry smirk he added, "No doubt there will be treasure involved, and our agreement still stands that we split the monetary value of anything equally among all who... participate." He seemed to search for that last word, not sure how to describe their actions using a single verb.
"To bring you up to speed." He looked at Neshar and Camille as well, as he said this. "I actually came here to investigate rumors of heavy magical disturbances in this region, and my search eventually led me here. The most likely reason for such disturbances is the presence of a powerful magical artifact. Something that, in the wrong hands, could cause a considerable amount of harm." The mage paused a moment and cleared his throat, gauging their reactions. "To be clear, none of us can possess this item either. I intend to recover it and put it into a vault of sorts, if it is as dangerous as I suspect. Anything else we find is fair game."
-
Drake already knew this song and dance so he simply continued reading the scrolls.
(P.S. if i could have some context of what exactly is in the scrolls besides research on monsters. Like it could be biological or magical and it could be vague or very in depth. It'll help me with my next post massively.)
-
The bully stepped toward the jackal, unwrapping his wounds as instructed. His ears flicked idly, following conversation as he did so, eyes focusing on whoever was speaking at the time. He gave a nod to acknowledge Xavier's greeting. Once the cloth was removed he held out his arm, assuming it was going to be the first thing dealt with. There was a spiral burn and tracking down it along the open areas a slick, black... Mass... Something that seemed almost alive as much as it was hard. Now that the cloth was exposing it, the thing quivered and disappeared into the wounds themselves. Upon closer inspection, it would become more obvious that the black had been his blood, a few of the dark droplets remaining in place where appropriate.
“Seems about right.” He commented casually, as if he had experience in such things, “Nothing can be as easy as burying the axe in that thing and calling it a day.” He gave a small chuff and scratched his chin with his free hand. “Maybe your relic was put here for some reason or another... Assuming it wasn't just randomly uncovered, but to be honest, it's not often things happen by accident.” His last statement seemed like an assumption made from experience rather than anything else. The canine's tail swayed a bit, still clearly interested in the discussion, hardly effected by the deer's leave.
-
Neshar looked up to the newcomer, and blinked when he saw a familiar face. It looked like the group’s big guy had returned. A bit odd to him though… he hadn’t seen him since the fight with that hound. And here he was returning out of no where. Neshar… wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about this… but what ever reduced the chances of becoming a smear on the wall.
His gaze then turned to Xavier… who was going through a song that he had guessed the lyrics to some time ago. Only now it’s an official statement. The thief flattened his lips together as he watched him. A look of wonder was in his eyes as he contemplated speaking out his intentions, and reasons for being here. But… perhaps it was for the best that he didn’t say anything. It’d just have to be a secret he’d hold onto for just a little while longer. Unless he was asked... then simply by his own moral code he would be required to give them the details.
The feline then turned his gaze to Drake. He had a bit of sympathy in his heart for him. He wasn’t entirely sure if the male could fight very well against anything with magic. He knew the guy was an impressive swordsman from what he’d just seen, but other than that… was he mundane? Neshar secretly wished he had found those enchanted items that the last adventuring party had died, if only to give something to him to give him an edge.
“As much as I love hearing and speaking true intentions. If you want to find that relic, I think we need to get moving. We’re burning time I’m not even sure that we have.”
-
The jackal shook his head and chuckled as the new member quickly ran away. "Less competition," he grinned smugly while wrapping the cloak around Mort's arm. "If she was that afraid just by words, I'm glad she's gone." His beads took the normal glow, although slightly dimmer than when he had healed Xavier. "It'll sting." He said while looking up to Mort and squeezing the cloak firmly around the arm.. Pouring what he could from his beads, he used his magic to reconstruct and aid Mort's body in healing. The melting was reversed, although the jackals beads had grown slightly darker.
He heard Xavier's speech, and kept his eyes on Mort's wound as he removed his cloak and let it return to his back. He looked over the other, tending to another major wound before he leaned back and crossed his arms quietly. Running low on juice, he looked to the other rather bleakly. "That should be enough. Until we can end another life." He chuckled, looking back at him, as Neshar acknowledged their lack of time. His eyes were rather blank, and the jackal stretched slightly. "Let's go."
-
It should have taken far longer to find the strange little group Nemael and Silverwing had been running around with. They should have departed from the village or found a new bounty of interest or, more likely than not, fallen apart and disbanded. Yet both of his companions reassured him they would be there for a time yet, caring not to explain why they were aware of this fact and that he should move swiftly before they did actually take their leave. Indeed, even though they had their own matters of contention to deal with, both felt a well of guilt for disappearing under such circumstances when the party was already beginning to dwindle. Although Silverwing chose to loosely espouse on this matter, mentioning that certain members were 'foolhardy and stubborn' and would not know when to simply cease their senseless actions.
Thus Dragonhawk was cursing under his breath as he approached the... unique gathering of opportunists, the lights that were lit within his eye sockets flickering as he looked from one person to the next. Several he recognized and had even been graciously given the names of. However, his gaze lingered on Mort and Xavier in particular, immediately recalling them from the initial gathering that he had briefly participated in. Amazing these two still remained, let alone the robed jackal and fox-raccoon hybrid. Almost everyone who had been there at the beginning were hovering around some documents, two previous members replaced by a different couple.
He hoped they had survived the incident with the Hound of Lockwise and were not missing from being... Dragonhawk shook his head and closed what distance remained, coming towards Xavier from an odd angle. As he approached, he idly checked the straps that kept his crossbow and sword/whip firmly attached to his body, a nervous tic he seemed incapable of disposing of. "They send their regrets," he murmured. Further clarification as to whom he meant was not provided, his gaze finally coming to rest on the flamboyant hybrid as he spoke. Although his attention was, in reality, evenly divided between those gathered here. The lack of information he had been given by his 'siblings' and a waning trust marred any other possibility.
-
Xavier dipped his head in agreement with Camille, figuring they had spent more than enough time lingering around the town, and that by now everyone should be fully awake and ready to face the tasks ahead. They were briefly delayed, however, only a few paces later by yet another arrival. One most may not recall or even have seen, but Xavier knew the strange creature as it approached. Indeed, it would be hard to forget. The man's name escaped him though, and he briefly wondered if it was ever said aloud.
"Another of Nemael's company joins us." He greeted, politely dipping his head yet again. He motioned for the tall, skull-faced being to follow along, resuming their trek towards the forest. The explorer was eager to be off, nature and habit of the otter-wolf being to never linger too long in one place. When the man spoke of regrets the hybrid simply smiled. Well, at least they would have another body, and just by appearances this one would be handy in a fight. "No regrets required." The mage replied evenly. Both the shift-user and Silverwing seemed to have thought they were obligated to stay with the group, but truth be told no one here besides the hybrid himself, and for personal reasons even in his own case, had any further need to stay and see this through. Xavier supposed that spoke highly of their moral constitution.
"I am Xavier, if we were not introduced." He continued, motioning to the rest of the party in turn with hand gestures and nods. "Drake, Neshar, Mort, and Camille." He named each individual in turn. The male's expression shifted slightly as he watched the pattern in which they were walking, carefully inspecting each of his companions. "Actually... If what Neshar says is true, we could have a considerable battle on our hands when we reach our destination... possibly before." He addressed the group as a whole. They had begun walking out of the outer building of the town by this point, the treeline of the forest slowly nearing in front of them. "Perhaps we should have a bit more comprehensive battle plan? If we are not careful things could go very badly very quickly, especially if we are not working in unison." From what the feline had said they would be sorely outnumbered by this mysterious group. Xavier almost paused to wait for suggestions, but then remembered that out f the bunch, he was the one who possessed a majority of the experience fighting with a group of this caliber. "Camille, can you heal in battle?" He inquired after a moment's consideration. He did not recall seeing the man's impressive healing abilities used often during their first fight.
-
The thief stared at the new arrival in confusion. A completely random soul whom just showed up well out of place. He was about to say something… his jaw was already open, and his hand was up pointing to the male. But he was sileneced immediately when Xavier explained who he was. His hand then dropped, lips pursing. “… Are we going to see his entire family next?” The thief commented, dropping his hands to his hips.
But soon, the group was off. And so was he. He took a position in the front. His ears were raised up a bit more than usual. Though they didn’t move often, they seemed to twitch and swivel to the location of an animal before it actually rustled in the grass. Even when he walked so casually, it seemed more like a predators careful prowl than a casual gate. Maybe this is just the nature of a thief? After all, the experienced ones tend to have some sort of uncanny ability to dodge surprise attacks.
Neshar shook his head to Xavier, “No no. That’s not my biggest concern. My biggest concern is them letting us do the hard work for them.” The rogue explained. He then plucked up a stick as he followed the group. He flicked the stick pretty hard, like he was trying to break it. “Let’s say if they attacked us now. They risk getting whipped out, and we are left unopposed and with more time. We rest, recover, and return later.”
He then scored his claws along the stick a few times, “Now lets say we go inside what ever fortress this thing is in. And there is crap waiting for us inside. We fight, we bleed, get injured, loose energy… or what have you. I’m not sure if Camile can fix everything.” He then raised up a weakened stick after balancing a coin on top.
“We get the relic, but we’ve been beaten to the dirt at that point. They come in… and…” he flicked the stick once more. The stick breaks in half, dropping the coin into a waiting hand. “That will be the biggest problem we’ll have. Of course it doesn’t rule out the chance of being attacked before we get there.”
He tossed the stick to the side and repocketed the coin.
“Soooo~, there are a few ways to handle that.” The feline hummed softly. His eyes flickering through the trees in a searching thought.
“The first one is to split up. One group searches and destroys. The other just collects the objective. We’re not exactly large enough to do that. Of course… you could assassinate leaders… if you can find them. I’d suspect that’d just be a death wish. I’m no assassin, and I’m not sure if anyone here is.”
“The second option off the top of my head is to let it happen. But you try to rest inside the area after bunkering down. I can disable and reactivate any traps I happen to find. And it’s harder for larger forces to siege a tight space like that.”
“The third option… is something I won’t openly say, because we are probably being watched. But it requires a degree of trust.”
-
Although Mort did not flinch at the pain, he did visibly grimace, and even then it seemed a bit stifled, or rather something that was bothering him only out of inconvenience. When it was clear the procedure was through, he recoiled his arm, then flexed as if giving it a test of functionality. “Thanks.” Again his ears seemed to flick at each speaker, and his eyes lingered on their new party member curiously. That same member had been with Nemael before all of this had begun, and so the bully refrained from comment figuring that the others had taken their leave elsewhere.
When the others moved, so did he, feeling that Xavier's words were those worth noting, “I agree that we should coordinate. If there's anything I've missed beyond 'we're retrieving a relic,' I'd like to know. I may be part of the brawn, but I do believe in utilizing the brain as well.”
Of course when the thief spoke up again, Mort's brows furrowed ever so slightly. Probably because the idea of getting killed had never actually crossed his mind with his abilities. There was something about the way that the other carried himself that made him feel irritated... Offended, even. As if the feline were withholding information from the group for the hell of it and not because they were possibly being watched. The canine's pupils pinned as they came to rest on the thief, expression flat. He bit his tongue, not having been a fan of the man since he'd entered the their first battle under the guise of a slave. He wasn't exactly a fan of thieves, even if they were useful, and it showed in his body language – not just with his tightened jaw and hateful stare, but the way his tail thwipped back and forth again, like that of an irritated cat.
The bully shook his head, snapping himself out of the irrational irritation that was gripping him. Perhaps the others' input would overrun the know-it-all thief's. At least he could hope; his eyes came to rest on the skull faced member once more, somewhat expectantly, still wearing his sour expression, even if it was not meant for anyone but Neshar.
-
Drake noticed the group was getting ready to leave for the forest and quickly packed up the map and if there was a map of the ruins they'll visit (tell me if there's one), that too. As he followed the group near the rear he listened to everyone's plans but none of them were good. All of them relied on too many unknowns and none of them even was a chance. Considering what the thief had already encountered it was more likely that they would clear the dungeon themselves. They did leave last night for it as well so it reinforces that possibility. "Well considering you said that they did leave last night to meet you and Camille, it only makes sense that they are already there, probably close to the relic with the rest of the group standing guard by the entrance. I do have one question though Neshar. Did this group have mages?" Because if so he will need to tell his allies about him being a Anti-mage. Considering he was in a group of mages anyone would understand his reluctance to share that information.
-
"I can heal, if you can kill." His eyes fell upon Xavier's after he finished with Mort's wound. He gestured his robe's beads at the hybrid, eyes on him while they walked. "Nothing is free. But with for price, I can mend anything that's still alive.. But if you guys are more careful, I can do much more than that. Assuming it's not dark, that is.." His words faded into a mumble, and he tailed the thief in the group after they began their trek.
"I try to make it so I don't have to heal in the first place. And if these fellows make a mistake, I can lock 'em for a bit." He added before resuming his more quiet demeanor and padding along the group. His eyes blankly trailed along the sides of the path, and although he noticed the newcomer to their group, he didn't say much to them as the fellow didn't take to introduce himself audibly. If someone wanted to spoke to, they could speak up or forever keep their silence. He grinned to himself, lower on his resources by quite a bit, but still able to put up with his normal walling shenanigans.
The thought of an older temple piqued him in the wrong way, although he didn't really know how he'd deal with it. He didn't want to mention any undead, speak of the devil and he shall appear was his philosophy on this one, and it'd probably be best not to allow his group to know, yet.
-
Lips pulling into a thin semblance of a grin at Neshar's comment, he watched as the young creature worked his jaw and simultaneously listened to Xavier's introductions of each member. His eyes flickered as he put a name to each unique face gathered around. "You already have," he responded to the thief. With a throaty chuckle he fell in step as everyone began to move, head cocking when the otter mentioned being unable to recall if he had given his name. "You are correct. Whatever it may truly be, Nem and Silverwing have taken to calling me Dragonhawk. Hawk or Hawky for simplicity's sake."
Maneuvering away from Xavier as Camille sidled up to the man, he fell to the back of the party and maintained a spot there instead. While he certainly preferred scouting ahead or keeping a position as part of the spearhead of a group, his sheer size would make it impossible for the others to see over. Unfortunately he made a far better door than he did a window. Although if he had wound up like a certain member of his race, even that would have proven not to be a problem.
Exhaling softly and watching every little thing that moved, it was then he noticed the foul expression Mort wore after Neshar mentioned a few plans he concocted. Immediately he began wondering if there was bad blood between the two that had developed when his companions had been present or that they had even noticed. In fact, he had begun to question why he had rushed here before even requesting some semblance of information to work with. As it stood he only knew what to call each person and what he had been able to glean from their garb, mannerisms and speech. Indeed, it was not within his wheelhouse to walk into a situation so wholly unprepared, yet here he was.
Cursing under breath, he worked the leather straps that held the sword/whip just between his wings and above the base of his tail. Releasing the catches, he gripped the blades hilt with one hand and wrapped several rings of the bladed chain around his knuckles. If he was going to be walking into so many unknowns, he may well have one of his weapons at the ready. Especially given what little he had been able to overhear about the venture and the plans Neshar had been providing. It took little sense to understand the danger they were heading straight into.
-
Xavier nodded at the comments from the surrounding members of the group, but shortly after shook his head. "Theorizing is somewhat moot at this point. They have a head start on us and we can't sit idly by and consider every possible angle. If they get their hands on this artifact there's a high probability that the first thing they will do with it is turn it on us. Certainly they won't let us waltz in and take it from them. The best bet is to beat them to it. If they follow us in... well, I can get us out in a pinch." He subconsciously wrapped his fingers around the weight of gold and chain in his coat pocket. "It's a one-way trip, though, so we need to make sure we have what we came for." He straightened his coat slightly as he withdrew his hand from his pocket, the more observant of the group might notice the garment was devoid of the damage it had suffered just the previous evening.
He looked around at everyone present as the trees obscured the sunlight overhead, the group of them walking into the mild shade of the forest, which slowly transitioned into a near-gloom as they traveled deeper. "The way I'm looking at it, our only option is to take this head-on. Make a direct approach towards this structure and destroy anything that gets in the way." He smirked. "Not a subtle or clever plan, admittedly, but with little experience working together and time being against us..." The hybrid shrugged helplessly.
"Mort, I'm pretty sure we're going to need you up front. If we can keep moving it will help. One of the flaws of rushing in head first is we need to be able to punch a hole through whatever defenses this third party has set up, not to mention if any more monsters are running about. If we get bogged down in a pitched battle, we'll be in trouble." Xavier spoke with a friendly tone, but it was clear that there was some habit of leadership that was driving him to sort their group out. The man was used to being listened to, even by relative strangers. He smiled apologetically, as if he was entirely aware that being told what to do might rub the hell-hound the wrong way. "I'll be right beside you this time. There's a good chance it will be tight at points, so mind the axe." The otter-wolf finished with a wink.
"Hawk, Neshar, take points where you feel comfortable. I don't have any experience with the way either of you fight, but if you need room to maneuver just cover the flanks and rear." His gaze shifted to Neshar. "Particularly focus on anyone with a ranged weapon, or god forbid, magic." Xavier figured it was not something the thief needed to be told, but it made the hybrid feel better to say it. Leave nothing to chance.
"Camille, stay close to Mort, let him clear us a path. Fight as you're able to, but prioritize keeping us mobile." He nodded to the mage deferentially and then looked over to the fox-coon. "And Drake, just unleash hell on anything that comes at us." Based on their earlier fight, the other hybrid had possibly the strongest magical aptitude out of their little troupe. There was no reason not to put it to good use liquefying some unfortunate enemies.
The hybrid just continued walking after that, calmly looking around at the others for any sign of confirmation or disagreement. The only sign of his nerves was a slightly flicker to the sway of his tail, and a firm set to his jaw. He -had- just unabashedly given orders to half a dozen super-humanoids, who likely were not used to taking orders from anyone.
-
Neshar looked to Drake as he dropped his question. He seemed to pay no mind to Mort’s hatred, even if he could feel it boring through the back of his skull. It was a hatred he could honestly do without for once in his life, but he was expecting at least someone in the group to have very little respect for him. The bad part is… that at least someone in this already dangerous group didn’t trust him. Which meant any act that was logical to him and was done for the best… would likely not be tolerated… by the brute of all people. Sometimes… he wanders why he’s even bothering trying to keep this group alive when they don’t have a prayer that they owe him.
Neshar paused in place as he thought for a moment. His gaze look distant as he recalled to three individuals that had given him quite a bit of nervousness. “I don’t….” he began… but he paused for a moment. His ears flicked, and his eyes narrowed as his thought buzzed a little further. He could catch most creatures trying to sneak up on him. Hell, he could hear a mouse’s heart beat if he was focused enough. But he couldn’t detect magic. Could that be it? Quite possible… as just skill can’t completely dampen sounds. But… maybe those rogues were beyond his skill? That little terrifying thought is something Neshar always considers… along with the possibility of this group randomly stabbing him in the back. A little voice in the back of his head is constantly reminding him of that… or maybe it’s just his paranoia from the lack of sleep.
His eyes refocused onto Drake as he grimaced. “Y-yeah… yeah… that may be a high possibility for three of them… as for the underlings… I don’t know. I didn’t stay for long. The place felt like a lure and bait if you catch my drift.”
But then he paused when he heard names being called out with authority. An old habit from not only his days as a servant but also in the military kicked in. His head turned to Xavier with his ears standing at alert like a hound that had just had it’s name called. When the details all came to an end, the feline didn’t even hesitate with his response.
“Affirmative, I’ll be back and at the ready when you need me… should nothing come up. Just give the word to return,” The thief chirped quickly. He had to painfully resist saying ‘Yes Sir’, as he activated one of his few spells. The shadows quickly lept up from his surroundings and clung to his body. A second later the shadows had incased him and removed him from sight. The only signs of him still existing was a sudden inexplicable weak draft of wind when he darted past a few of the party members.
Neshar, now completely invisible, is roaming in a loose radius around the group with most of his focus being in the front. If he ran into anything that looked hostile, the group may find it’s body on the ground –striped naked- with several terminating stab wounds. Either multiple times in the chest, once in the back of the head, back of the neck, or the eye. A good indication on why the thief may not have been a good assassin would be that there was a fairly decent chance that his pray may have screamed in terror before being stabbed to death.
Annnd… if nothing happened. They may find Neshar uncloaked and on his knees next to a large hellish looking six legged cat with two thorned tentacles, carefully opening up the bear trap that it was stuck in. The creature doesn’t seem to regard him with aggressive intent.
-
Drake nodded hearing Neshar fumble about his awnser. But if there was a few there was more likely going to be a lot more. Then Xavier began taking charge. If it was any other time he'd probably be a little frustrated but after explaining his reason he couldn't help but agree. He listened carefully to Xavier then quickly added a little information he neglected to mention earlier. "I should mention now before we are in the heat of battle but I am actually a fairly good Anti-mage. Being able to siphon magic from spells thrown at me to fuel my own magic. So if we do run into mages let me take them." Drake then brought his hands to his pockets a little unsure on how his allies would feel about it. From what he's seen anti-mages don't really get trusted because of thier unpredictable combat. Which he does sort of fit into that group, and in that last fight against the mutant hound he would have caught some of his allies spells to fuel more of his attacks. But well that isn't really what a teammate should do.
-
Dragonhawk's eyes narrowed into slits, the energy almost completely winking out as he listened to the otters commands. While he may have come here to finish what his family could not, it of course did not mean he had to follow the orders given. Granted, the hybrid did appear to have a head for the situation and the beast could certainly appreciate Xavier's utilization of the resources at his disposal. He would have been quite foolish to leave it untapped, especially given the potential that everyone seemed to garner. Yet the fact still remained that this simple act rubbed his nerves raw, jaw tightening as he mentally traced the reason to why.
"I am most comfortable at the forefront, where my blade and whip may work as intended." A soft hiss accompanied his response as he turned fully towards the hybrid. His lips drew into a rough grin, leaving unusually sharp teeth somewhat bare. "Would this ruin your machinations with..." he paused, searching for the name. "Mort? Or would you still have me covering the flanks in case of direct assault there?" Although certain he knew the answer to his question, it was better to entertain the man than outright disagree. He was here under tenuous circumstances after all, leaving little point to purposefully or even accidentally disturbing the balance that was at play.
"Know that I can function there just as well," he suddenly amended. "I taught Nem about the rifts, although I use them for transport and retreat--as they were always intended to be by the Greater spirits. Not for killing blows."
-
The ruins. The long road to town. The burning across his flesh. The kitsune gasped and opened his eyes, turning his head quickly to look around. His surroundings streaked with each quick turn, reality muddling like paint running together. The fox gripped his amulet and focused on it, his mind calming and his aura fluctuating slightly. Opening his eyes again he looked around and saw the few other people traveling in the back of the wagon staring at him worriedly. "My apologies.. just some bad memories resurfacing." In truth he didn't know, but it usually made people more sympathetic to think that he was just some poor traumatized loner with an old heirloom to hold onto than a mentally unbalanced psychic. The fox had no reason to believe he could kill anyone if he lost control, though others might not be so trusting.
Pulling his cloak tighter around himself he turned away towards the back of the wagon and closed his eyes again, hoping he'd had his fill of nightmares.
Sleep came easier this time. Though he still got bursts of.. something. It wasn't something he had seen often, but he'd been seeing it for the past few weeks. Flashes of abberant creatures, mutated beasts, terror. Admist the images of wild, savage beasts, the fox saw vague shapes and figures. They cameand went too fast to hold onto, though he felt they were important somehow. Something about these things and the places he kept thinking of and glimpsing in his dreams felt important to him. It was a sense of purpose he'd never felt before, and on this last leg of the journey he'd found it harder than normal to focus. It was like some part of him knew there was something important here, but what? The flashes started coming faster and his mind felt like it was being crushed under the weight of it all. A savage, furless beast slobbering acid leading a hoard of beasts against some small group of figures cast in shadows like the forest around them. Lumbering beasts, distorted by either a twisted force or his own fractured mind. There were hills and plains and forests and a doorway that lead to a coridoor that-
"Hey! You alright there?" The voice jarred him suddenly from his slumber and his eyes shot open. "You were shaking pretty bad. The others said you were some whacked out soldier or war victim or something."
Looking out the back of the wagon and past the driver he saw the small village they'd arrived at. "Yeah. It was a year ago. Something.." he paused and rubbed his head as a migraine rushed through his head.
"Don't you worry about me, no need to go digging up stuff you don't need to be thinking about. I do feel bad for ya son. Here," the old weasel handed him some coins, "get yourself a drink on me. If it doesn't help you forget the bad stuff you'll at least forget this evening." He chuckled and patted the fox on the back as he climbed down.
"Forgetting stuff isn't the problem.." the fox muttered, "I thank you though." The fox walked next to the driver as they both appeared to be heading for the bar, though probably for different reasons. Bars always seemed to have the local gossip, and with how his dreams-or visions?-had only gotten worse as he drew nearer to this area, he needed some answers. Once inside the bar he looked around and sighed deeply. There seemed to be a sizable crowd for such a small town. The fox slid his goggles down and the magic activated. The design on the lenses shifted and expanded turning the vague wisps of aura he could see on his own into more defined forms. Looking around he saw small traces of residual emotional aura over by one end of the bar. As he walked towards it he looked over to the bartender and raised his goggles. "Was there a fight over here? Some kind of argument, maybe?"
The bartender looked at him with a bit of shock. "Well, not right there. A few seats down the bar there was a fight. Some lady I'd never seen sat there though. Did you need something?" The bartender seemed confused and intrigued by his sudden and rather on point question. The fox told him he was looking for something in the area, and remembering the figures that he saw standing before the acid spitting beast he quickly inquired about that as well. "Ah! Yes, there was a group of strangers who killed some foul beast in the woods. I don't know where they are now, but they seemed to be in a hurry about something."
The fox thanked him and left, promising to come back and have a drink or a bit of food upon his return. Curious.. the fox thought to himself, the aura couldn't have been off, the emotion was centered there. Some sort of emotion based magic maybe? Perhaps she caused the fight.. The fox left and looked around, asking a few people about the group. They seemed to be a good bunch, but it took too long to find out where they had headed. With only a general direction and his senses to find them, he headed out into the woods. After a few minutes he stopped, ears perking to the sound of voices. Passing a few trees he suddenly found himself facing this mysterious group with nothing obscuring their view of him. All he could do is stand there stock still, while his goggles registered interesting magical auras and vibrant health auras.
Perfect health and wielding magic. I hope they're friendly..
-
The bully listened to the others as he padded along, eyes finally moving from Dragonhawk long enough to stare outward into the woods, as if he'd just now realized his face was contorted into something that was not quite pleasing to the eye. His sour expression seemed to have subsided, especially when Xavier spoke up again and the thief disappeared. At least a strategy was coming along, somewhat. He didn't protest so much as he moved near the front of the group as directed, giving a small grin to the hybrid. “It's a good thing the axe is only back up then.”
In truth, the axe only came along in case there was something the canine couldn't bludgeon to death with his fists and even then, when push came to shove, he could manipulate his blood into something to slice as needed. In most cases, it seemed to be there only for looks, perhaps to throw people off when it came to his ability. While usually full of snide comments, Mort kept to keeping his mouth closed to he could listen and learn both about their situation and his teammates. It seemed most of his questions had gone unanswered and the best way to get anything out of the group was to idly listen to their conversation.
When his eyes turned again from Xavier to the path, Mort immediately stopped, taking notice of the figure that stood before them. He did not recognize it as Neshar. Given the chatter about heading straight into hostile territory, he did not ask questions, nor did he take the time to address his party – rather he put his head down and charged forward, skin as hard as stone, with his hands clasped above his head in preparation to strike downward and plant his blow on the stranger's chest. He only hoped his party would be quick enough to follow his lead – his intent was to at least disarm the figure and put it on the ground before it could make a move.
-
"Is this what I closed those wounds for?!" Camille growled while darkness briefly shrouded the bully. A bright armor appeared over him afterword, the jackal wincing slightly as he was running low on everything about now. His beads sapped, but he grit his teeth and looked over the bully tackling over the odd figure who seemed rather mesmerized by the group. Part of him hoped that the other would eventually react, so that way it wouldn't be like running down something without a fight.
His dark eyes darted around, he bit his lip. He needed more life and he needed it fast. Falling past his backline, his eyes darted around the daytime forest. Licking his lips in a brief hunt until his eyes fell upon a nest of birds in a nearby tree branch. He approached, watching his team behind him while he crept out of their formation briefly. In a quick motion, he wrapped his cloak over the nest and the branch. Using the properties of his material, he tightened it around the branch and the birds; crushing them with a few tweets while he vamped the not so rich source, although the babies would keep him going for quite a while. The loan was terminated and the cycle of life continues. He released the branch, the part he'd crushed visibly more compact than the rest of the tree.
Although only gone a minute, he approached gently and first looked upon the backline while his armor was still on Mort. His beads didn't flow as they had prior to all of his healing, but they did have a bit more juice to them. He exhaled in a bit of relief; feeling the grip of his own death escape him for the moment. His eyes peered around afterwards, not sure if the fellow in the road was more of a bait for letting others slip in behind their front. He kept around the middle more defensively now, prepared to divide anything that may attempt to squeeze itself in there.
-
The hybrid relaxed slightly when the response was primarily non-hostile, even positive in a few cases. The exception to which was Dragonhawk, whom he had essentially guessed at to begin with. The large creature's fiery eyes had nearly narrowed to the point of winking out, but Xavier had not picked up open hostility so much as displeasure. "Fair enough. Take point with Mort, then. I am not familiar with your abilities, even those of the Shift. Nemael had only used those powers a few times during our initial battle." The mage explained, looking across at Drake as well as he revealed his little-known talent.
"If that's the case then work defense against any casters we come across, and turn their spells on them if you can reach them. Just don't break from the group unless you can reliably return." He motioned to the empty air. "The thief should be alright on his own for obvious reasons, but the rest of us can't get separated if we are fighting a large force." Xavier paused and looked as if he was about to add something when he saw Mort suddenly bolt froward from the corner of his eye, pulling his attention to the fore. The individual standing in the forest before them looked just as confused and surprised as anyone, likely a sentry that was lax on the job. Xavier briefly considered launching a fireball over Mort's head, but it seemed a bit of a moot endeavor, as the bully would probably just roll right through the man.
As the events before them unfolded, Xavier recovered his wits enough to look around and behind them for any more foes. Camille appeared to be doing likewise, and with good reason. The air around Drake, in the rear of the group, shimmered briefly before a trio of red-leather clad men were suddenly standing around him, shadows and darkness trailing from them like smoke. No warning, and with no other signs of how they had gotten there. Two of them were wielding thin-bladed rapiers, while one held a pair of hand crossbows. They said nothing and made almost no noise as the two blade-wielding assassins thrust towards the fox-coon with deadly precision. The third of the trio opened fire to either side of the mage, the bolts aimed for Camille's back. Just a split second after which, the trees on the path before them flickered with light, several magical bolts fired from the cover of the foliage flying forth and aiming for Mort and the stranger.
The magical bolts were closely followed by a small platoon of charging soldiers, iron-clad and wielding the traditional sword and shield combination. Directly before them a single man stepped out of the brush, standing nearly seven foot tall and clad in a plate armor of a reddish hue. He did not charge or attack like the rest, merely began to stride forward after the charge, hefting a deadly-looking mourning star and a heavy heater shield. The shield bore an insignia of a curling red serpent on a black background, and gleamed with an unnatural light.
-
Going stock still for a reluctant moment, Dragonhawk cocked his head when Xavier acquiesced. He had been under the impression that the hybrid would inform him to either lock in or leave their little adventuring band behind, his previous companions requests be damned. Quirking his lip, he was about to apologize for assumptions made on his part when several events occurred all at once. Reflexively loosening the chain wrapped around his knuckles and bringing the base of the blade attached to the tip into his claws, he almost followed after Mort's incredibly visual cue. Yet the subtle ripple of unnatural force led him to drop to all fours, turning himself into a relatively smaller target and giving him long enough to asses what was unfolding. Of course he could only remain still for so long before action was required, made abundantly clear when they were being assaulted from all angles.
Barking out a laugh of disbelief, he had no time to marvel over how swiftly this adventuring band managed to get itself into the thick of battle. Instead he burst forward on all fours for a few paces, then quickly switched back to two when he caught the glimmer of light arcing straight for Mort and the supposedly unarmed stranger. Murmuring under his breath, aqua light bloomed into existence along the bladed whip. Drawing his arm back, he let as much length loose as he could straight into the path of the magic missiles. While this tactic had worked in previous occasions, he did not know if the spells these men wielded would be effected in a similar manner by the Shift. Regardless if they were deflected or merely passed through the weapon as though it didn't even exist, he would follow up by skidding a few feet away from where the missiles had initially been shot. Digging his clawed toes into the earth and using his tail for balance, he unfurled his massive wings and gave them a single, powerful stroke.
Over estimating just how far into the trees these mages had either climbed or ported, he over-shot his destination by a couple dozen feet. Cursing under breath and using smaller beats to keep aloft, he was incapable of seeing the fighters who hid within the foliage. Aware of the fact that diving in blindly would be a death sentence for his wings, he hovered for a few precious seconds before suddenly snapping them shut and dropping. Falling almost too swiftly, he glimpsed what appeared to be one of the mages legs and once again hurled the whip attachment out in an arc, the combination of chain and leather wrapping around what he thought was their ankle.
Snarling loudly, he cared not to slow his or the mans fall until the last second when he unfurled his wings and created a second powerful gust. Bobbing in the air before landing, the maneuver successfully spared him from the full impact of his previous action. The person presently attached to his weapon, however, was not so lucky.
-
Neshar… surprisingly found very few people wondering around. They lied dead in the path before him with their belongings now his. That added… a few red cultist cloaks to his list of disguises to use. As well as giving him a selection of weapons to use for the upcoming fights. Between the morning star, a long sword, and a court sword. He opted to take the court sword, which was now clipped to his belt.
Now the feline was kneeling before a large displacer beast that was lying on it’s back. The spent bear trap it was trapped in was also clipped to the feline’s belt for a use in some other occasion. Neshar idly scratched the monster’s belly as he looked into the tree lines with a distant gaze. He began to wonder about some things. Namely why he had encountered random cultist so early. Maybe… they were stragglers?
A distant roar definitely confirmed that suspicion.
Now alerted, Neshar scrambled to his feet and darted back to his allies. In mid stride he had flicked his mask into the air and caught it, then slipped it over his head. By the next stride, the mask had been secured in place, and his body reentered his cloak.
Between his bounds and rapid shadow stepping, it didn’t take long for him to cross the distance. The last bound through the world of shadows left him invisible and leaping out of a tree branch just over head. His body fell freely in a pouncing stance. His eyes focused downwards to the chaos below.
Everything just felt as if it was moving in slow-motion for him as he observed everything happening. He had his orders to follow… range and magic. But this… seemed like a good time to break his orders and explain himself later. He couldn’t save Camile… he had nothing to stop the bolts. He was pretty sure he didn’t need to help Mort… but it seemed that Drake was in a danger that he could assist in.
His body shifted once more through shadesmar, and flickered back into reality on the ground between the two assassins and the party’s leader. He longed forward… his cloaking spell tearing it’s self away, his body melding away from the shadows. He raised a dagger in his left, and the court sword in his right to deflect both of the weapons. The movement caused his limbs, and the weapons to expunge a purple wispy aura that lagged behind the lightning fast movement. There was also a noticeable effect of a chameleon like spell, the limbs blurred enough to be easily lost if they weren't watched carefully.
The feline gritted his teeth as the contact between the weapons tore out a metallic screech that wreaked havoc on his ears. He pushed against the weapons, and dipped low. His body swooped between the two’s stance, with the duelist blade spinning behind his back. He spun, behind the assassin on the right and threw out two quick thrusts. Each one exploded with energy that made the arm appear to have just popped into place. First for the lower spine, the second for the cerebellum.
The feline had a terrible feeling that he was going to miss horribly. And instead of checking for the confirmation of a hit… he quickly took a step back in retreat. His stance remaining low with his weapons raised defensively. A second later… and he begin to notice his vision… turning bright and blurry. A light shivering of his arm and leg as the muscles strained was enough to show that the feline's predicament caused by his isomnia from paranoia... and a lack of anything decent to eat for a few days.
Oh buggers… the fatigue is really starting to set in. It was that very moment… the feline was sure he was going to die. He had packed a bundle of herbs to help with his sleep depreciation... but grabbing that right now would be a bad move.
-
The fox blinked as the first of the group noticed him, and the vulpine psychic was just starting to raise his hand in greetings when this stranger suddenly rushed him in an openly aggressive manner. Cursing softly under his breath he stepped back and flicked a paw, sending a small rock hurtling towards his shoulder. It was more to unbalance him or slow him down, as any damage it might cause would be negligible.
"Dammit all.." the kitsune spat in Sylvan, "I was hoping this lot would be good people, not the violent mess I'm seeing here!" Taking a diving step he landed on all fours and sprang away trying to maintain some space. Pulling his staff from his back he charged it with psychic energy and turned, assuming a defensive stance. He made it clear he wasn't trying to attack, but was still ready to be attacked. "I'm just here looking for something, I have no interest in bloodshed. Stand down you damned mercenary, I have no interest in your contract or your coin."
The divine purpose of the Heirophant flooded through him as the battle set in, his chosen legend for the day filling him with with a noble and divine presence. When all hell broke loose around him, the fox glanced away for a second then quickly spun away and swept the legs out from underneath one of the soldiers who seemed to be veering slightly towards him. With great purpose he drove the tip of his staff down into the warrior's face, sending waves of pain through his face and the side of his head before pulling back and stomping down his head, driving him to the edge of consciousness, and possibly knocking him clean out.
Glancing back towards the bully he eyed him closely then backed away, waiting to see how he reacted. If this violent mercenary came after him again he'd need to overwhelm him quickly with a well timed spell and disable him before he could do any real harm. I have not traveled all this way, suffered through all these twisted dreams, and fought through droves of wicked souls to be stopped by a common mercenary.. Though this sudden drove of bizarre cultist soldiers might be something of a threat, especially if I have to fight them and this ragtag group all at the same time.
-
Drake would be unaware of the assassins till the last seccond when they became visible noticing the very light sounds with the newfound shadows. He'd bound forward useing his telekinesis to pull himself out of the way a little faster. Once he was on his feet again he span on his heels seeing Neshar get some distance not wanting to give the assassins time to react he quickly made some gouts of fire erupt from his hands and brought both pillars of magic closing onto the assassins from both sides. Whether they dodge or not he'd quickly fire a mana blast towards the main group of charging soldiers to break them up sure they would all live but it would knock them all around giving the rest of the group time to attack and mess them up.
-
Camille blinked and a field of chaos erupted around him; the jackal gripping his back and falling to his knees with a sharp grunt followed by a moan. Although penetrating his flesh; the bolts did not actually penetrate his cloak; which actually stopped them about halfway before they were pulled back with some blood dripping down his robes. He winced and gripped his side while his cloak hardened into a small, transparent dome. The armor he'd placed on Mort vanished as he was downed, and already the energy he'd sapped had to be used to heal himself over. Briefly he stood, stumbling slightly.
The grass below the jackal withered as he leached what life he could; although most of it minuscule. His eyes fell upon the downed Neshar, who he came over and slowly cloaked over with both his cloak and body; grunting lowly as he looked down at the tired and paranoid figure beneath him; his dark eyes locked on the others as several bolts hit the hardened cloak; audibly bouncing off.
"Rest is more important than reconnaissance." He grumbled while he gripped the others shoulders with his own palms. He began to shove and heal what he could onto the other being; a low exhale and grunt as he visibly sweat. He ducked his head as a paining feeling would rock up the thief's body while the healing granted him some energy to move on and a partial cleanse of his wounds. Panting and looking up to him again; gaze a bit dimmer now. He spoke lowly, "End more lives, I'm going to need them. Now is not the time to show mercy."
Camille gasped slightly as the dome shattered; wincing down again at the dead grass beneath the pair. Shards of white crystal fell over the pair and ground before he stood, the cloak reforming into two bladed gauntlets and a torso armor around him. He took his gaze back at who had been shooting; huffing air and charging forward relentlessly after leaving behind Neshar, being too weak to use projectiles and hopping upon who had been dazed by Drake's blast.
A liquid red coated over his front as he stabbed continually at the other; the jackal's knees bruised and still trailing dead plant life below him,
-
The rock did very little to slow the bully down though when he took his swing, he missed, hands landing hard enough into the ground to cause a divot. He'd rear back again to try for another attack until the fox's words caused him to pause – so far as he was concerned the explanation was good enough until the group had been ambushed. Again, he would have gone for the fox for lying until the man attacked the assailants that were currently wreaking havoc upon the group. There was no way he could have caused the ambush if he was attacking the men as well.
Mort let out an annoyed growl. There was too much going on so far as he was concerned – too much to piece together what was happening, and so it was time to hit first and piece together what was happening later when the dust settled. A choice he wasn't necessarily fond of, but had to follow through with anyway. At Camille's comment, the bully raised his fists and slammed down on the assailant pinned below the fox, ending his life with a sickening wet crack. After that, he'd put his head down again and charge, blood hardened again to take out as many soldiers as possible, or at least put them off balance.
-
Xavier whirled in a circle when it became clear that the initial assault was focused upon the others, taking quick stock of the situation at hand. The rest of their group had jumped into action, either to defend themselves or their comrades. Which meant he was the only one granted a moment of thought before the battle commenced. Neshar appeared out of the shadows in the nick of time, deflecting what would likely have been fatal surprise attacks against Drake, who in turn skipped forward with unnatural speed and began unleashing his magic. Those foes were dangerous, to be sure. Neshar deftly took unnaturally quick jabs at one of the men, who deflected the first attack, clearly caught off guard, the second strike sparking off of the guarding blade and piercing the man's head. He dropped to the ground, perhaps not dead but certainly out of the fight. The second almost managed to strike a blow before he had to jump back several times in succession to keep away from the fiery pillars of the fox-coon roaring towards him.
Camille was up and standing before the third volley of bolts could be loaded, his glowing blades finding easy purchase in the marksman in front of him, though the man was agile enough to avoid being fatally wounded he was being sorely pressed into retreating by the magical blades, vainly using his hand crossbows to deflect what blows he could not fully avoid. He looked to his partner for help, only to find that he was being swiftly chased away by pillars of fire.
The bladed whip of Dragonhawk deflected the magical bolts with surprising effectiveness, the glowing magic ricocheting wildly as it impacted the weapon. Where they hit the ground and trees they left smoldering impact marks, and withered any plant-life they touched. As Dragonhawk leapt forward into the trees, Xavier saw Mort and the stranger separate, the bully charging with equal recklessness into the oncoming soldiers. The line of the charge was suddenly broken apart by a blue pulse of magic from Drake, several of the men even leaving the ground as they all were tossed and rocked by the explosion.
Mort went headfirst into those still standing, crashing through a pair of them and receiving little more than a few nicks from panicked sword thrusts. The soldier's shields were of little effect against the juggernaut, and they both went over backwards into the ground as the terrier rushed them. Their armor made them hard targets, and they seemed to be little more than inconvenienced by being knocked over.
It was there that Xavier saw the opening. Side-stepping a bolt of magic that came whizzing out of the trees towards him, the front of his coat smoking slightly from the proximity, he righted himself and ran full tilt after the hell hound. "Break through!" He yelled forward, though whether his voice carried to any of his companions over the roar of battle was hard to say. More magic missiles came out of the tree-line, at all members of the party now, the hidden mages seeming to have abandoned whatever shot-calling had directed the initial volley. Bolts of virulent wildfire rushed to meet those necrotic incantations as Xavier summoned his own inherent magic, the two theurgies colliding mid-air and producing spectacular burst of destruction. Those missiles flying overhead for Mort were largely destroyed, the otter-wolf having to use the flames summoned along his paw to directly swat one missile that managed to reach him. It exploded with violent destructive power mere feet from his body, but as the magical energy cleared he appeared largely unharmed even by that proximity, his arm protected by the force of his own magics.
After each attack the hybrid appeared to swell in power, the flames of his magic licking up his arms and his strides turning from a run into a slow and deliberate advance as he neared the battle. He reached Mort's side, ruthlessly and efficiently putting fireballs into the downed bodies of a pair of soldiers, the kinetic force of which pushed their bodies deeper into the ground by several inches and dented their armor like the the sledge of a giant, smoke and flames roiling from their certainly dead bodies. The berserker's expression was dark, but there was a hint of pleasure as the destructive power of his magic was brought to life. Xavier reveled in battle and violence, and even taking the lives of potential innocents could not dull that thrill.
A crossbow bolt whizzed past, punching a hole clean through his left ear, barely missing its mark. The mage winced and turned to see three more of the assassins had materialized between himself and their back line. Sobering up from the battle-lust that had been taking hold he quickly realized that their plan had been to cut them off from the start. Blood trickled from his punctured ear down across his cheek, and he grinned, the shock fading and the thrill of the fight taking hold once more as pain throbbed through his head. Good. He didn't want this to be too easy.
-
Drake was grinning now as he could see the battle unfold. He could tell how things would play out. And it didn't look good. Drake quickly decided to tighten the group again, or force all the enemies to show. either or it didn't matter. Drake did notice where the mages were shooting from and quickly tossed a few fireballs into their surrounding brush. Striking up a fire behind the mages to force them into the open. Neshar and Camille should be able to take care of the last assassin behind him so he quickly charged into the new assassins that showed using his cone of flames to make a smoke screen of sorts against the trio, until he got closer. Once he did get in close he would toss a throwing dagger assisted with telekinesis at the new archer aimed for his chest and slash at one of the swordsman assassin's legs with a newly formed sword, again assisted with telekinesis. If he would try to block it with a flimsy rapier like the other assassins had it would quickly become scrap.
-
The kitsune took a long step back then took several small steps back as the bully charged towards him then arched his brows in surprise as the bull crushed the enemy he had disabled. The fox had not planned on killing him, merely leaving him as indisposed as he was. All the same, this did mean that the brute was not against him.
Watching as the bull charged off towards the other mysterious opponents the fox nodded softly to him and carefully made his way closer to the group. If things got to heavy he didn't want to be surrounded by only these mysterious assailants. As unsure as he was of the trustworthiness of this aggressive bunch, there was the old adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend.' Unfortunately, the fox found himself surrounded sooner than he'd expected and in a hurry to escape the enemies around him he delved into his known spells. There was a spell that he half remembered, and the more he pulled at it the more it became clear.
There was a sudden surge of warmth and his marks let out a surge of blue fire that didn't seem to burn him or his clothing as something slightly different flowed into his mind. Without thinking he held an open paw aloft and then clenched it sending a wave of pain through the enemies closest to him. The foxes eyes were glowing as he turned towards the nearest enemy and struck him hard in the temple with his staff. The force of the strike combined with the surge of psychic energy sent him careening to the side and onto his paws and knees. The pain seemed to be persisting and the others looked nauseous, but still ready to fight. Knowing that time was of the essence the fox charged the next one and aimed directly for it's gut, hoping to agitate his stomach that seemed to be queasy from the pain that was flowing through it.
-
As usual, everything seemed to happen in a blur; it was hard to direct and redirect in the chaos, but before the canine knew it Xavier was at his side. Glancing behind him, he wore a small smirk at the bodies that littered the area behind them – teamwork was one hell of a weapon. It would continue to carry them through accordingly so long as they could continue moving forward, though he was sure the men that materialized in front of them would not be so foolhardy as to let him charge headfirst into them once more. They'd seen that trick and would be ready for it if that's how it happened again. Mort was sure of that.
The bully merely stood at attention in front of them, perhaps waiting for a move – and when one of the men shot, it was all that he needed to get going again. Without hesitation, the bully drew his axe out and in one smooth motion, hurled it horizontally at the line of assassins in front of them, letting go of the handle as it swung forward at the men's torsos; it wasn't necessarily a move to hurt so much as distract, but he'd take whatever result he could get – if the axe knocked into the men, the bully would be on top of them before they could gather their wits. If they moved to dodge the blade, he'd mirror their movements and help cut them off, allowing Xavier to take whatever was left.
Either way, as he made his move, the blood from the stray nicks and cuts seemed to burble up at their sites and move in one smooth rivulet to the terrier's knuckles. There, the blood collected and began to spike in various formations – they'd harden into what looked like knuckle dusters with various large points – it almost looked as if Mort had shards of black glass protruding from his knuckles.
-
Neshar… suddenly found himself being engulfed by a magic cloak and invigorated. He listened to the other’s advice, then snorted just as he received enough energy to keep himself going. The blurring and the brightening of his vision certainly died down, letting him see normally again.
“I’m pretty sure mercy is the last thing I show when I aim at a guy’s head…” the thief sighed as he now returned to his feet. His eyes glanced down to his original foe. He located only one puncture wound… on the head. Too much blood to confirm the kill however. He could coup de grace the assailant… but he had a feeling he’d need him for later. Better to ensure he stays alive till he’s no longer needed.
The feline quickly thrusted the court sword downwards, first striking the male’s left elbow then impaleing his right knee. And… just to be sure he wasn’t going anywhere soon, the feline pushed down harder till the hilt was touching the leg… acting as a method to nail him to the ground.
“Cloaker Neutralized…” he commented to himself. His gaze shifted to the few fire balls Drake had launched out. He watched their trajectory as his body was engulfed in a dark magic that quickly took him away from sight. It didn’t take long to relocate himself in a different location of the field, granting him vision on the mages that had been pushed forward by the spells. The cloaked feline withdrew his bow and pulled three hefty explosive arrows from his quiver. He fired each one in quick succession at an arch. And each one tore through the air, letting their presence be known by a very distinct high pitch whistling sound as they careened down in front of the group of fleeing mages.
“He wanted brutality… I’ll give it to him…” The feline mumbled direly as he quickly weaved out of the trees and tore through an unsuspecting victim’s throat with his dagger.
The thief was no stranger to war. And it definitely showed in his craftsmanship. As the bombs exploded into a ball of fire… its victims would find that’s not the most dangerous aspect of It unless they happened to be close. No… it was the steel ball bearings, and other scrap metal the feline had shoved inside next to the casing. Those would launch out and rip apart anyone who just happens to be unfortunate enough to be in it’s targeted range.
And amidst the carnage, the thief was back in the fray once more… this time his target being the straggling assassin.
-
A few seconds later and Dragonhawk would have been a part of the mages being assaulted from afar, only having enough time to backpedal when he had heard the distinct whistle of Neshar's explosive arrows. Of course, backing off so quickly also brought the cadaver currently attached to his sword/whip along for the ride, a matter he quickly rectified. "Do these men even know how to fight as a team?" He murmured. Exhaling slowly, he quickly gauged the direction the battle was taking.
From what he could see, the majority of men were either engulfed in flames or fleeing from the powerful magics that were being thrown at them. Others simply lay on the scorched earth, either dead or simply incapable of moving. Blood either pooled around corpses or spattered against trees as each group member tore the enemy apart, batting them aside as though it were nothing. Dragonhawk's muzzle creased into an ever-growing frown as he watched, noting that the few who remained untouched were those that marched with the warrior wielding the heavy shield and mourning star. Bedecked in plate armor, he knew well enough that he wouldn't be able to tear through it. And the way his shield gleamed...
Barely able to resist the shudder that wished to take hold as he peered at that unnatural armament, he tore his gaze away and leapt back into the treeline. Climbing so he may gain a superior vantage point without the downside of being caught flying in open air, he would wait until the moment he deemed best to lash out with a rift. When that time made itself present, he would quickly open and close several at once, either dropping foolhardy men from the sky or unleashing his companions on the few who did not expect a blade in the back.
-
The jackal continued to pound the corpse and stood with a snarl; his long hair partially covering his face and obscuring his vision. Coated in a layer of blood, his armor continued to take shots. He fell into a stagger, wincing as he took three more hits. One by one they hit his armor, causing the shatter to ring out for a second time as the canine fell forward and onto his knees. His hands on the ground, he coughed up the slightest amount of blood on the dead grass beneath him.
He was siphoning from the death around him, but it wasn't enough to sustain past all the damage he was being exposed to. He had put himself in a really bad position while rashly charging upon the dazed assailant previously. A sharp yelp filled the air as he felt another bolt hit his side, gritting his teeth and slamming his fist upon the dead grass. Another dome formed around him, and he gripped his side while he panted. The others would continue, but Camille looked upon his bloodied robes. His hand prying at the bolt, wincing and yelling out inside of his crystal prison while he tore out the flaming hot projectile. His magic began to do its work, but he gripped his forehead with his seared hand. A slight tremble kept him unsteady as he heard the sounds of his allies and enemies fighting around him.
His beads were potent from all of the life he'd leeched, but the pain was enough to keep him out. When his dome shattered and reformed in his armor over his torso and thighs, he staggered and took a bladed swing at a man who was already lurching in pain. He tilted his head, his armor again stained in the blood of a soldier as he turned his gaze to a newer fellow; a fox who was radiating blue flame. Though evidently not skilled in hand to hand, the jackal locked eye contact; bladed arms raised as he grit his teeth. Striking another mage while in magic armor was definitely a move he wasn't going to do blindly. He cracked his neck slightly, another man dropping and his cuts healing visibly(although at a slower rate than when he focuses); energy allocated mostly to keeping him and his armor standing as for once he kept his allies out of gaze, and set his sights on this new stranger.
Although his narrow gaze was normally far from friendly, skepticism was clear. An ally, or a part of the enemy forces? Then again, the group didn't have a clear enemy, the enemies were just anyone against them. He kept himself defensive, though his arms were up and ready to strike. His primary thought was to keep the fox away from anyone besides him and Mort; he narrow eyes wincing slight as the gem-like material his armor was made from easily dropped a few stray shots. He wasn't going to let the defense shatter again.
-
As the two front-line fighters paused to assess their newest foe, the otter-wolf took an extra moment to track the trajectory of several arrows that were being fired from cover of foliage, noting that the enemy seemed to be focusing on removing Camille from the fight more than dealing with the rest of the group. In fact, aside from the trio of assassins that had appeared before them, Mort and himself had hardly been slowed in their progress. The mage briefly considered turning back to assist the healer, though leaving Mort alone in this fray would certainly put the canine in peril despite his supernatural tenacity.
The thought was cut short as Mort hurled his axe at the men, causing them to dive aside. Indeed, the one in the middle of the three had nowhere to go, and it seemed the axe would cut clear through his midsection, but as the blade arced around for the kill it caught nothing but a wisp of dark smoke. The assassin reappeared almost instantly to the right of the pair, hand crossbow raised to take a shot at the charging hellhound. The bolt released, but not before a glimmering shield of silver magic was cast between the pair, like a ribbon of light. The bolt struck the magical barrier harmlessly, clinking like it had hit hard glass, and spinning away wildly. The following fireball would have dealt the man another fatal blow, but again the bolt met nothing but smoke. The intense magical energy collided with a tree down range, splintering the trunk with its force and causing it to slowly topple over.
Xavier, one paw now glowing a brilliant white while the other still burned with a fiery orange light, was left looking back and forth, searching for the teleporting opponent. The hybrid was clearly expending a lot of energy unleashing so many spells in such short order, his breathing heavy and his shoulder starting to show the slightest signs of sagging as the blood from his ear matted the fur on the side of his face. A bolt of magic came sailing in at the hybrid from his blind side, while the assassin reappeared to his left, rapier pulled back for a thrust. Unaware of the missile, the hybrid turned towards the assassin, leading with a heavy haymaker utilizing his burning fist.
Meanwhile, the other two assailants were on their feet before Mort could get to them, though the sudden appearance of his blood-formed weapons made them seem to think twice about attacking the brute head on. Skilled as they were, they both backpedaled swiftly to avoid getting into his reach, that is until Drake came at them from their flank, appearing out of a screen of magical flames. The dagger that was tossed moved with unnatural speed, kicking up sparks as one of the skilled assassin's deflected the dart with his sword. The man did not account for the magical speed of the attack, however, and while he deflected it it still cut a deep gash across his shoulder as it flew past. The other man barely had time to throw his hand crossbow and pull his dagger before the fox-coon was on top of him, aiming a slash for his legs. He did indeed try to block the blow with his dagger, countering with a deft stab of his rapier at the fox-coon's throat, intending to finish the mage quickly.
The forest was ablaze in several location at this point, mostly due to the fox-coons rampant use of fire magic, and while several of the mages had fled onto the open field, most of them had their wits about them enough to continue volleying spells at the group. Unfortunately for them, the high pitched whistle of explosive arrows was difficult to detect while casting spells, and several of them were immolated on the spot by the explosions, while several more were shredded by shrapnel. A few necrotic bolts continued to fly from the foliage, but the number had been severely diminished.
Dragonhawk's brief observations would yield to him that the apparent commander of this group of fighters was carefully watching the battle unfold, and as he watched, redirected his course towards Drake, who was primarily responsible for breaking their formations. The group of soldiers at his back fanned out behind him. Out of the group of eight additional men, four of them were archers, who continued to fire shots at Camille as they marched, keeping him from fully recovering his strength even amidst all of the death and destruction. Seeing the tide of battle turning against them, the mace-wielding captain urged his men forward, and they came on at a full charge at the front-line of the group. The archers, seeing that their attacks were no longer as effective against Camille's armor, also switched targets, raining missiles down on Mort and Drake.
Soldiers rushed at the unexpected third party, the psychic suddenly under assault from half a dozen armored men. Whether because he was closer or because they feared the destruction that the terrier had inflicted upon their comrades and hoped to find an easier foe was difficult to say. Several bolts of magic came sailing his direction as well, the blue flames that had sparked up around him making him a clear target to the remaining nearby mages.
-
The psychic looked around and saw the men moving towards him and saw the mages turn their attention to him. Cursing softly in sylvan he held his arms up before his face and flared his aura, trying to resist the spells being hurled at him. Should he feel the spells overcoming him he would burn through some of his own spiritual connection to send a surge of spirit energy through him. Once the dust had settled he focused on an image and a feeling and the spell he was looking for came to him flawlessly. His focus was shockingly on point considering he'd just received a multi-spell assault.
One paw reached into a pocket of his cloak and came out with a pinch of powdered iron between his fingers. Having focused the spell in his mind, there was no other outward sign of the spell being prepared, but the effects were visible. After several seconds the bit of iron shimmered and then went up in a spark and a small puff of smoke. The six armored soldiers and the few remaining targets of the wave of pain he'd released were suddenly overcome by a diminishing feeling. If they failed to resist the magic as it flowed over them, they would suddenly feel themselves shrink to half their size. Their armor and their weapons would shrink with them, leaving any of those subjected to the spell severely disadvantaged.
"You should run," the fox spoke strongly, though the edge of holy purpose had diminished since the last time he spoke. Rapping one end of his staff on the ground, he growled angrily at them. The phantom fire was brighter than before and there was a hint of a glow towards the back of his throat when he spoke. "NOW!"
-
In Drake's opinion the bolt that the one mage fired seemed to be panicked a little making it a easy dodge. Well easy for him. Drake would keep using his telekinesis to lower himself quickly and very low to the ground almost parallel with it actually. Making him avoid the deadly stab and the bolts all together. But he wouldn't leave nothing for the archer before he went and cut the melee attackers legs off he flung more fire to the archer. As the sword was blocked Drake would do his best to simply try and lower his sword around the dagger to have it slice through the assassin's legs. If it didn't work it would simply be just a high speed tackle that would probably break the assassin's legs.
-
It seems that he was a bit late on the ball when it came to the assassin that fell behind. It appears that camile had already taken care of the little bugger. However, not without taking some sustained fire… enough to cause the thief some serious concern. Just as the archers turned their attention away. The feline had appeared at the male’s side, with both hands raised up.
“Friendly~” He hummed out in a sing song manner. His hands quickly dropped down. One tapped his bag, and in just two heart beats, he had produced a fist sized bottle of some viscous tar black, tinted red fluid. Neshar tapped at his own maw, before tossing the bottle to Camile. “You look like shit. Drink up. Take a knee. Make it count. I only got one more.”
And with that… the feline quickly spun and hurled the stolen arming sword into the air towards the archers. He let the momentum carry him as he spun further, and flicked out one of his charged daggers towards the archers… this time aiming for the ground on the other side of the flames. As his spin came to an end, he found himself now facing the kitsune.
‘Oh… great… one of –these- things…’ the thief thought to himself dryly as he looked him up and down. Finally he shook his head and pointed to him. “You! If you’re friendly, make sure the lovely anu here lives please! If not, or he’s dead. You get an unmeasurable array of blades in your skull~”
With that… the feline vanished, and reappeared once more. The sword he had thrown… was more of a distraction than something that could have killed. As it finally came spiraling down to the ground, it clunked one of the archers on the head. Fortunately for the archer… the most it would have done is knocked him out cold. As for the rest…
Neshar rushed their locations through the flames with a hellish yowling warcry. He was low and swooping in a bizarrely quick serpentine path. Trails of smoke, and whispy aura trailed from behind him as he moved. The skull of his mask was the only thing that was definintely visible before he made his assault. With daggers drawn, and clinched like punching knives. He made his first punch at the nearest archer’s throat, before swooping through the group in a haphazard manner. The way he worked… the group looked as if they were in a storm… where the lightning strikes were only the flurries of stabs the feline had made… and blood would be it’s precipitation.
-
"Keep it. Just keep killing, I'll be fine." He grumbled to the thief, forcefully pushing the other's potion back. Before his ears twitched at the yelling of the strange new mage he was facing. Neshar was quick to disappear, though the jackal's focus was brought on again by the swelling blue flames before him. Getting hit by a blast, he snaled and was launched back a bit. It was evident that he himself was being carried by his armor at this point, though he winced and stood back up, regenerating his burns after a bladed gauntlet found itself at the head of another foe.
Though tired and very cranky, the mass death of the situation charged up the priest's beads quite a bit. Beneath his armor, the beads on his robes glowed brilliantly, though his attention was turned to the squishier members of his party once the darts had stopped flying to him. Though, as he looked on he found his allies were in quite fine positions and doing well enough for him to neglect. Standing up again, he once more faced the fox mage; crystal reforming its cracks as opponents fell.
He approached once more and grunted lowly, his ears down and teeth grit. "You're going to find that a lot of people won't run."
-
With two wide swings, Mort missed the both assassins thanks to their backpedaling. He let out a growl and continued to move forward despite their retreat, this time waiting until he was closer to take his shots. It was by pure luck that Drake managed to take them by surprise – a good distraction so far as the bully was concerned. While the foxcoon took on one of the two, Mort reached out for the other attempting to grab at his throat to hold him still.
It was then he felt an arrow strike his shoulder. Despite the pain, it did little to stop him from striking the assassin in his hand so much as it fueled his irritation and rush to assault. Even with the others shooting at him, it was a peripheral irritation at best, his blood hardening once more to keep the shots from piercing him too deeply while he finished off the assassin in his hand by striking him repeatedly in the face while tightening on his windpipe.
After he dropped the dead man, he would dip down on one leg and move his arms upward, causing some of the nearby fire to coil around him, dancing on his fur to serve a sort of shield around him – it wouldn't stop the arrows, but he hoped it would at least negate the magic bolts – or at the very least deter any more soldiers from attacking him head on. He was an intimidating sight to say the least; a flaming brawler with boiling shards sprouting from his knuckles.
-
The cacophonous sounds of blazing flames and exploding magic filled the air now, and Xavier's fist as it met the assassin's ribcage just added another sound to the mix, the sound of grinding bones. The rapier thrust almost struck true, the man's sword reach exceeding the hybrid's fist by a good several feet. Luckily, the battle-practiced mage was prepared for exactly such an attack, and had used his free paw to deflect the sword with an open palm. The shielding light prevented the blade from simply piecing through his paw and reaching his heart, but it only deflected the blade enough that it slid cleanly and painfully through his shoulder instead. The assassin's body clenched up from the blow, immediately coughing blood onto the ground from the impact, and he began to slump over, his sword pulled free by the weight of his collapse.
The bolt of magic struck him then, unimpeded, and he felt the life force drain from his body. The magical constitution that held the otter-wolf's unnatural body together unraveled slightly, and the color drained from his face. He fell to his knees in front of the assassin, seeming suddenly frail and mortal, the super-physical presence of his being diminished to a whisper. The extravagant coat covering him was left with a smoldering hole burned through the back of it, and the magic ensorcelling his paws winked out as he gasped for air.
The group of now-shrunken soldiers looked around in great confusion as their perspective suddenly shifted, the world seeming to grow around them. two of them completely lost any will to fight right then and there, simply dropping their weapons and running towards the nearest tree line as the now giant-like fox growled at them. The other four hesitated, but seeing his magical energy start to grow even stronger they backed up several steps, all of them hesitant to rush forward but not entirely fleeing the battle. However, as Camille stood up beside the kitsune they began to take steps back, clearly on the losing side of that battle.
Neshar's whirling attacks left little room for counter-measures from the flustered archers, who dropped like flies around his teleporting dagger-strikes. Suddenly, though, he found himself unable to teleport as he entered the radius of the central forces. The magical energy that transported him through the shadows would conjure, but it simply had no effect, and felt as if it were being drawn away from him in an instant. This left him standing amidst the main force of enemies, and though three of the four archers lay dead, the fourth was out of reach, and had an arrow trained on the downed otter-wolf some hundred paces away.
The assassin that Mort briefly held clawed at the hand around his throat in futility before he had the life crushed out of him.
The remaining assassin facing the bully was suddenly cut down at the knees as Drake's summoned sword slid off of his dagger and cut out his legs. The assassin made a last ditch effort as he fell, throwing his dagger at the fox-coon face as he hit the ground. He wasn't dead, but neither could he move beyond crawling, his legs severely damaged by the magical sword. Like Neshar, Drake would find that the magic he summoned to throw at the archer pooled in his hand, but was whisked away in an instant. Much more visibly than Neshar's shadowy abilities, the flames whirled through the air and into the front of the shield held by the charging enemy commander, who seemed to gain a burst of speed and energy as it did so. His sword as well suddenly flickered and vanished in a blur of shimmering energy, also being sucked into the shield. It was but a moment later that the line of soldiers came crashing into the fray, and Drake could see that devastating mourning star come swinging for his chest with supernatural speed and power, the man swinging it grinning wickedly as his magic-siphoning shield began pulling the fire away from Mort as well.
Two of the magical bolts that were aimed for Mort and Drake stalled in the air about twenty feet from the fray and were suddenly pulled into the shield as well, further fueling his magically-enhanced strength.
-
Micah watched as the two soldiers turned and ran from him, with the others backing away slowly. He was very pleased that all the targets were overwhelmed by his magic. Hearing the sound of another person approaching the kitsune turned quickly, staff held aloft. The figure he faced was an ocelot, though he didn't seem at all hostile. It was clear, however, from the feline's expression that he had no love for the more mystical foxes such as himself. When he confronted him about protecting the-'anu' did he call him?-his face became awash with a look of incredulity. When the feline issued his threat the fox jabbed him softly with the end of his staff, though no energy discharged from it. "Do not speak to me as if I am yours to command, as if I am indentured to your group." As the feline disappeared and reappeared distance away he growled and shouted after him. "And DO NOT! THREATEN ME!"
The fox watched him spring into the fray some distance away and cursed softly in Sylvan. Looking over towards this 'Anu' and watched him approach. Eyeing him up he seemed not at all aggressive or displeased with him as the thief was. Arching a brow his way he considered his words, but there was a flicker of movement. Turning to face the source of the movement he saw the remaining shrunken enemies retreat from the two of them. Turning back towards the Jackal he shrugged softly, "Most may not, but they did. Do you know what that Ocelot's problem is with.. well, my kind? Seems a bit prejudiced." The fox normally wouldn't make small talk in this kind of situation, but the battle seemed under control.
Unfortunately, just as he began to relax he felt some shift in the flow of energy around him. Quickly sliding his goggles down over his eyes, he looked around in a very erratic manner. Finally he found the dissolving magics and where they gathered at. Realizing the implications of this phenomena he sucked in a quick breath and turned to the jackal, placing a hand upon his chest. "Please trust me," the Psychic closed his eyes and his mind filled with visions and feelings of grace and health and should the jackal let him, healing magic would surge into him. It wouldn't bring him into peak condition, but the worst of his wounds and pains would be eased and he would feel better. "You will need that health for this.."
-
The theif’s brow quirked as he noticed he didn’t fall into shadesmere like he had intended. His eyes drifted down to the energy that was being whisped away from his body, and fade away before it lead to anywhere significant. Neshar allowed his concern to slip his mind as his eyes fell back onto the last archer. He noticed he wasn’t focusing on himself, and quickly followed the soldier’s aim to… oh dear.
It seems that the group’s leader was about to be executed by a firesquad of one… and his current condition worried the male even more. The theif wasted no more time as he flicked the daggers at his last enemy. The first one quickly slammed into the archer’s hand that was holding the blow, the weight alone would be enough to throw the aim off. The second one slammed into the archer’s head, ending his life immediately.
The theif rushed up and recollected his weapons before returning his gaze to the battlefield. The thundering noise of storming soldiers quickly drew his attention, and before long he spotted the commander running out. Fueld by what looks like rage, and magic… he pretty much powered his way into the fray.
Neshar cursed to himself as he weighed his options. Fighting badasses like these were nothing new to him. Common crap he ran into while fighting for the sergals in their war. He had his tricks to reduce their effectiveness to a manageable level. But… Xavier was also a huge liability in his current state. His death would mean a lack of reason for this group, and make his current agenda that much harder.
The feline clicked his tongue… the choice was obvious. Save the otter thingy.
The feline quickly rounded around, and charged down the field. The lack of his magic was an inconvenience… but luckly it’s supportive nature prevented it from being a crutch. Neshar was still an experience thief with or without, and that was easily seen by the male’s swiftness as he tore across the field.
It didn’t take him long to catch up with the line of soldiers, where he was now bouncing from head to head to get to the front. After bounding off the last head and touching down, he rolled back to his feet. He kept low as he darted forward. Just as he was near enough…
“DRAKE! BACK UP, NOW!” He snarled out. The only warning he was going to give him as the feline bounded over the Commander in one leap. His body was twirling in the air midway through a summer salt.
Two different projectiles flew from him. The first one, midway through his arc flew out at lightning speed… but it was only a rock. The thief was expecting the man to block that one. The second just before his back touched the ground, was quickly thrown out, aimed at the commander’s feet.
Just as it struck the ground, a charcoal cloud erupted out of the hand sized ball. The cloud also seemed to shimmer a bit… which was a product of the ingredients used. The feline… might have some suppressed sadistic feelings towards life. What were the ingredients of this blinding powder? Severely hot dried powdered peppers, toxic herbs, rust and aluminum, finely ground glass, and some extract from poison oak. Of course this twisted concoction wasn’t designed to just irriate the eyes… but all mucus glands (eyes, nose, mouth, and ears). Open up small cuts, and agitate them along with existing wounds. Irritate the skin, and force the victim to suffer poisoning later in the day.
After the feline recovered, he quickly darted his way to Xavier while calling out to Drake, “Hope that helps!”
It wasn’t long before Neshar had Xavier hefted onto his shoulder, where he then carried him out into the forest.
-
"Do not touch me with your false magic. I don't need your help, nor do I trust the way it feels." He snarled as the new figure approached and touched him, the jackal backing up after the other's advances. His ears perked and his attention was diverted towards the rest of the fight. His teeth bared as he raised his bladed gauntlets up once more. "I'll deal with you, later." He growled sharply at the psychic before running to the absolute havoc going on around Drake and Neshar. His gaze sharpened upon the shield of the commander after seeing his blows, breaking into a quick run towards drake before his armor weakened and shattered before he even reached 5ft away from the commander.
Frantically darting back, the jackal bit his lip as he was exposed in his robes. Still in the fray, he panicked and gasped while jumping back and luring some of the commander's back up away from him. He turned his gaze to the grouping of weakened soldiers tailing him, catching glimpse of Xavier and Neshar also fleeing. After a fair amount of distance, the jackal sighed lowly as his cloak returned, gulping lowly and hardening it into a wall behind him while he slowed his run. He panted lowly for the second the soldiers were confused before he took his stance.
The grouping was definitely not a large once, and though they were able to step around the wall, enough time was bought for the jackal to envelope and wrap the men in it. Squeezing and crushing while their wails and screams rang through his ears. Siphoning the force from their early ended lves, his beads glowed once more and he exhaled as he healed over the cuts and stabs he'd taken while fleeing. His dark eyes looked to the commander, though he bit his lip after glancing at the shield, looking away shamefully. His focus was brought back after a sharp stab his side, an inhale while his gaze fell upon one of the weakened assassins on him. He knelt and snarled out angrily, tears forming in the young canine's eyes as the blade sunk deeper and the former glory of an assassin knelt beside him. He gulped and sputtered whlie the assassin prepared a final blow to his neck. His ears sunk and the cloak hardened once more into the previous dome shape it had taken. He whined for a second before he shattered the dome, impaling the man with the material and healing himself over on the side of the battlefield. Forced to be an onlooker, he wiped his eyes and grunted as he rubbed his blood stained side. Gulping quietly and exhaling as he stood; physically out of energy but magically juiced.
He reformed his armor, and though he looked in the direction Neshar and Xavier had headed. He looked to see if the shield had been dealt with before coming too close, not drawing too much attention while he stood and waited, hoping Drake and Mort had already taken down the large foe.
-
Drake had nothing he could do. Everything was layed out for him. Because he was telekanetily throwing himself at the assassin with his magic he would simply get flung into the legless torso and get launched away from any danger. The dagger that was thrown though would catch Drake's calf as he unintentionally exited the fight landing on the other side of Mort from where the commander was coming from. Drake would be very shocked and panicked. Literally as good as a peasant farmer right now in this fight. And begin crippled because the dagger in his calf it's not like he could run dispite him badly wanting to. All he did was draw his dagger and hope for the best.
-
The bully was taken aback by the large man's shield, mostly due to the fact that the fire he'd whisked around him had been sucked in along with other spells from what he could see. Even the shards on his knuckles began to quiver as the man drew near, the blood bourne weapons finally faltering to their natural liquid state, dripping uselessly to the ground. It was alarming to say the least – not only had he not expected such a thing, but there was a large amount of blood outside of his body at the moment that would be lost if he didn't begin a retreat.
For the first time since the whole ordeal had began, the terrier took a few steps back, drawing as much of his blood inward as he could – there was no way to prevent the loss of some of it, but it was nothing compared to the amount he'd lose if he charged forward judging from the effects at play. He had no idea what kind of magic fueled the shield, but he was certain for the moment that he needed to avoid it long enough to get his blood in order. He could fight without his ability, but not if he lost over two pints of blood and fell into shock in the process.
With his sights falling on his fox-coon comrade, the bully wasted no turning and dropping his weight in order to scoop under Drake and tackle him to the side – if he was going to retreat, even if temporarily, he needed to remove Drake from the direct line of fire – he only hoped that the thief's powder would be enough of a distraction to allow him enough time to do so. It sure as hell had to be doing something to the commander given that it was beginning to irritate his cuts just from where he was standing... Something that wasn't helping his predicament with drawing in his blood.
-
The arrow whizzing into the ground several feet to his left didn't even seem to register to the mage, his focus entirely on resisting whatever dark magic had afflicted him. There was little else he could do regardless, his strength had been sapped dry. Xavier grunted as he was picked up, his feeble resistance to the act fading as he realized who had scooped him up. Neshar must've been stronger than he looked, as Xavier wasn't small by any means and the thief was carrying him with some speed. His vision was swimming, but he retained enough clarity to see the line of soldiers crash into the fray, and the suddenly retreating hellhound diving away from them. A few magical projectiles chased them into the trees, but their aim was poor and the spells simply scorched and blackened the earth and foliage around the pair, never truly threatening to hit them. Xavier heaved a sigh on the feline's shoulder, his paws glowing with a weak light as he worked to reverse the damage to himself. Already his vision was clearing, but it would be some time before he could truly fight again.
"Neshar, why would they not send him in the lead charge?" The hybrid inquired weakly, finally taking note of the magical energy that was being pulled towards the enemy leader. The hybrid couldn't make sense of why it seemed wrong to him, or why he had asked that question out loud. He couldn't think straight.
---
The mourningstar bit into the ground with a resounding WHUMP, sending dirt and debris flying as the sheer force of the blow left a small crater in the earth. The armored man snarled angrily, lifting the weapon back up and shielding his eyes from the stinging concoction that had blinded him so easily and made his attack him its mark. The smoke burned his lungs and stung at his eyes, and he could even feel it burning his skin where it was exposed. One of the men nearest to him must've felt the sting of this stuff as well, he could hear him screaming nearby, though he dared not open his eyes to look. He staggered out of the cloud, coughing and waving his weapon from side to side in an attempt to clear the air and ward off any attacks that came his way. The magical power of his shield was counteracting whatever damage had been done, he could feel it healing him, but the same could not be said for his men. That was a vile trick.
As his breathing returned to normal and he no longer felt the stinging cloud around him he opened his eyes and whirled around, making sure no foes were bearing down on him. Nobody was nearby, and he even saw that the canine he had expected to rush him had pulled some dozen paces away with that mage in tow. His three remaining soldiers were chasing them, making sure they could not easily escape the area where his shield would stop their magic. The jackal, the one designated as their healer, was standing a good distance away watching them, the strange fox not too far from that spot. The others were nowhere to be seen, and the commander growled in annoyance, making a gesture with his hand in the air.
The remaining mages came out of cover then and gathered in a group behind him, outside of his magic-negating range but close enough that they were not left unprotected. Half a dozen robed individuals clutched at wands brimming with necrotic energy, all of which turned against the fox and the jackal (the only ones whose line of fire was unobstructed by the commander's shield) and fired at once. Six dark, pulsating energy bolts came swirling at the pair.
For his part the commander just charged after the fleeing hellhound and fox-coon, quickly regaining the distance put between them with his magically-enhanced speed. He could not afford to let that mage use his magic again, it was too devastating.
-
The fox looked on as all turned to chaos before him. The hybrid who seemed to be at the core of the group was left crippled by the magic. Micah was left with the feeling that something about his being was severely disrupted by the anti-magic effect. Thankfully, the foxes own unusual state of living was of a spiritual nature. This benefited him in two different ways given the circumstances. The fox's own life was not disrupted by the anti-magic, which was fortunate. Were his connection to be disrupted he'd lapse into a coma, one he more likely than not would not wake up from. The fox pondered for a moment if he would be able to possess another were his body properly destroyed, but dismissed the thought.
The second benefit of his unusual, spiritual state, was an uncanny resistance to negative energy and death magic. Holding his head up high and taking a deep breath he flares up his own spiritual aura and weathers the worst of the attacks. Not all the spells hit their mark, and not all the ones that do so much as phase him, but he does grimace from the taint of necromantic energy about him. "What awful filth.. I wonder if I could encourage the commander to stay and disrupt them some with that shield." As the mages waited for the dust to settle, the fox dashed into the woods and reached out just long enough to yank the Jackal into the brush. "If you don't want my healing, then fine, but at least don't die," the fox whispered as he zipped further through the woods. The commander was easy to follow, and the Fey blood in the kitsune helped him guide through the brush and around the trees.
Once the fox was certain he'd have the time he stopped and waited till he was just far enough away to summon up the most powerful magic he could currently access. The fox was not stupid enough to launch a spell, but perhaps.. The fox started to transmute the spell energy into something else. Something different, but familiar to the psychic. "You really ought to pay attention to the real threats.." the fox muttered as the spell energy focused into his mind. It was a shame he wasn't paying attention, the fox wasn't sure if how strong his mental defenses would be with his mind so thoroughly engaged, but this would be an experience to learn from.
The fox's marks flared as he refined the energy and focused it as strongly as he could. The fox outstretched a paw and pointed his first and middle fingers at the commander as he continued his pursuit. His hand twisted sideways and what came next, only the fox and his target would experience. A surge of psychic energy shot from his finger like a silent, blazing arrow made of blue, spectral fire. This was, however, only the image that the fox attached with his manifestation. When it struck him, the sensation would be like no other. Not a drop was spared on merely dazing or fatiguing him, all of the power was devoted to raw destructive power and it would flow through his mind and down his nerves like a crushing wave if he was not able to focus himself enough to fight it off.
(This is, of course, assuming that you allow the manifestation to bypass the shield. If not, then he stands, he points, and nothing happens. Yay! Time to go hurl spells at the cannon fodder.)
-
Drake's eyes widened seeing Mort charge for him. He knew he was a ally but it was still very intimidating seeing the large brute charge him. Eitger way he let himself get scooped up and grunted as he felt Mort's shoulder hit into his ribs. Soon after he would look up and see the commander leave the black cloud waving his sword around comically. Which gave Drake a glimmer of a idea. He would grab onto the knife stuck in his leg and rip it out. He knew it would be painful but he would need it sooner or later, preferably sooner.
-
“Keep moving,” Mort snarled at the foxcoon, small triangular eyes scanning the area for anything of use so that he was at least not without weapon – a feat that was easier said than done as the edges of his vision stung, a sensation still remaining from Neshar's powder. The damned theif. There was only so much protecting he could manage without risking his own hide, he could only hope that Drake could keep out of harm's reach for as long as he could distract and intercept. Even if there weren't many places to go, it would be better than remaining a stationary target.
It seemed that everyone was helpless against the large commander, including the hellhound, as the man was upon the terrier faster than he could have ever anticipated. Any distance he put between himself and the commander was immediately closed thanks to the man's speed and at the rate the droves of men moved behind them, the bully was running out of places to go. Running was useless, not that Mort had been a fan of it to begin with. Still, he had no intentions of surrendering – not unless they took him against his will.
Reaching out to one of the bodies, the canine snatched up one of the rapiers – it wasn't his axe, but it was surely better than nothing at the rate he was moving. He turned on his heel and dropped his weight with grit teeth, hoping to catch the commander by surprise as he charged, planting his shoulder in the man's hip and scooping under his legs to attempt to take him down to the ground. Again, the canine worked more to disarm than actually inflict damage. If the commander was on the ground, that was time he was spending not swinging that morning star and perhaps time that would allow the terrier to either use the rapier to inflict further damage or allow his allies to engage.
-
“Yes… yes… ask the subordinate thief a question about strategic questions,” Neshar sighed with sarcasm as he continued to haul the Otter into a safer location. Once he was sure he had time, he came to a hault, and set the man down with his back against a tree. Though he made sure to keep him in a manner where he couldn’t be seen so easily.
“Two guesses. Either they are treating it like a siege, where you test defences first before sending out the big guns. Or they really didn’t expect to have so many losses. Either way, something tells me that shield came from the adventure crew before us. If that’s ture… they got more badasses bunkered somewhere.”
The thief then called out softly in a bizzare language, which sounded like something conjured by the whispers of a madman. Perhaps the reason the thief was able to speak something so evil was he that he really didn’t think about more than a tool. But, the bizzare language did conduct a response. A creature larger than a bear stalked out on six legs with the main shape of a feline. A feline if two sickly looking tentacles poking out of its foremost shoulder blades was natural. Another noteworthy detail is one of it’s middle legs had been wrapped in a bandage.
He continued to speak to it, and when he was done. The creature nodded softly, then lowered it’s self to it’s haunches. Neshar looked back to Xavier with a nervous expression.
“Alright… listen carefully. If you don’t know what a displacer beast is, it is a lawful evil **censor** murdering nightmare cat with a sense of honor. I had two, now one favor from it that I had not used. That firstone is to cover you while you recover. If you are feeling ballsy, make a request with the favor I am giving you. But please… for the love of the nine… be careful. You offend it, and when that favor is up, it may turn on you. But ah… don’t if you don’t have to.”
With that the feline was off again. He had taken a moment to pilfer a weapon from a corpse. A Great sword… that will work. With his new weapon, the thief hurried back into the fray, moving in to flank the commander with the weapon in hand.
And if Mort was successful in knocking the male over, the feline would waist no time in hopping in to lob that damned shield arm off.
If not, the feline would have to resort in carefully taking his swings to not hit the bully. Oh how he loathed large weapons for this innate problem. Of course, if Mort wanted a trade, the thief would be more than happy to obligue.
-
"I'll die if I want." He snarled towards the stranger as he was yanked, only submitting to after a bolt of dark energy shattered his armor around him for the third time in this battle. He panted angrily while he then recovered in the bush. His beads quivered against him, low on energy but not quite sapped yet. Still staggering, he snarled and lashed a bit. The young fellow's long hair now getting in his face. He exhaled and gathered himself together, looking towards the fox. Partnered in regard to having awkward magic, he lunged down and conjured a wall of his light material in a blink of darkness to shield the psychic from any other blows from the mages. He exhaled and held it together for some time, his eyes peering for Drake amongst the fight. He understood that there was the commander there, and he couldn't approach with the mages up to fire at them, and was relieved to see Mort grasp and carry him on a chase.
"I can't brawl with that shield and his alliances active. We need to shatter them, with something or another." He grumbled towards the psychic and looked around to find where the thief and Xavier had gone. He eyes focused on the commander who the fox had drawn towards them. He gulped down and kept his wall up for as long as he could, sapping his magic down bit by bit while this occured. After some time and the fire had slowed down, it shattered down to his shards. He launched back his own militia of sharp pieces at the group. Several fizzled out from the protection, but due to the nature of his magic's creation, two hunks of material were able to hit into the sides of his men.
The sharp chunks then consequently faded into bright light, leaving the wounds inflicted to bleed out while the jackal looked to his counterpart and then to the commander. His dark eyes fell upon the psychic, and he exhaled lowly and brushed off the sides of his bloodstained robes. "No healing should be done without sacrifice. Without balance, users become impure." He grunted lowly while he reformed his armor for what he hoped would be the last time in this fight. Smaller, and mainly around his torso and his arms, it would be easier for him to regenerate and hold together through the antimagic. For the time, he stayed with the fox in order to peel off anything that'd try to hunt him down. And with a drifting gaze and his head uncovered, it just now became clear how young the jackal actually was behind his robes. Blunt gauntlets braced, he prepared to brawl whether or not it'd be the commander or one of his men who found himself near the pair. "I'm not Xavier, but I can tell you our distrust is based on past experience. And for someone who works with the light, I'm did not leave the court to die in shadows."
-
The hybrid slumped against the tree, but he had enough strength and wits about him to keep himself propped into a sitting position at the very least. The necrotic magic had done some damage to be sure, and it was nothing superficial, but spared from the immediate threat of that anti-magic field Xavier would recover swiftly.
Neshar simply received a nod, the mage's eyes only opening to inspect the strange beast that appeared, but closing soon after. He did not intend on invoking favors that were not his to take, and certainly not from a displacer beast. Xaier had no personal experience with them, but one heard stories.
"I'll be fine."
-----
Magical bolts continued to pelt at the area where Camille and Micah were huddled, though the jackals magical shield and the kitsune's inherent resistance made them little more than a deterrent against moving closer. The trees around them were taking the brunt of the damage from the magic, as the wildly aimed bolts struck at the forest, turning lively green trees into withered husks and blackening the grass and bushes into ash. Camille's shield held against the assault, allowing Micah the time required to focus.
---
Focused as he was on killing Drake, the commander was still not so unaware that Mort's sudden turn caught him off guard. The bully may never know that, however, as just at the moment he turned the bolt of piercing psychic energy fired from the trees struck the armored man. His magical shield clearly was not designed to combat psychic energy, a rare form of magic that was difficult to counter with traditional means. His form went rigid as his brain was wracked with violent, destructive power. It still would not have been enough to bring down the titan, not on its own.
Mort struck, then, though, plowing into the commander's legs with a low sweep and lifting him up in a bull rush. The stunned officer could do little to steady himself, and in fact was barely able to comprehend what was happening to him as his senses tried to compensate against the psychic attack, sorting real pain from phantom. His mourningstar went spinning to the ground, thunking heavily into the dirt with the handle sticking up at a tilt. He desperately hung onto the shield as he hit the ground, though it did him little good as Neshar arrived at the battle. The first swing of the great-sword simply cut into his armor and arm, leaving him wounded but not entirely limbless. The shield, however, fell from his grasp, laying lamely in the grass, his fingers to weak to clutch it.
He seemed to struggle, but in the end he could not recover enough to move. Instead he laughed. "Well... done..." he choked through the psychic haze of misfiring nerves. "but..... point......less." One could almost sense the defiant grin in his words.
-
Micah was prepared to summon another manifestation and did indeed preparing another one until he saw the bully, the thief, and-was that a Displacer Beast?-charge at the commander and drop him to the ground. Breathing a sigh of relief he looked back at this strange jackal, his words seeming contradictory and ludicrous to the kitsune's ears. "My psychic powers are channeled through my faith, my healing magic comes from the purity of my faith in my mother, Inari Okami." The fox turned to face him fully now, the commander seeming to be unable to shake the three on one assault, disarmed and pinned as he was. "Further.."
The fox seemed as if he was ready to have a rousing discussion, but suddenly his eyes caught sight of the beads and he seemed stunned and confused. A few seconds passed before his forehead creased with concern. 'How had I missed this? I was so close to him, I touched him and I hadn't noticed this.. this..' The fox reached for his goggles and dragged one lens over an eye slowly. When he got a clearer look at it that was when he was certain. The flashes came again, and this time they were very potent.
An ornate chamber. Various occult tools. His marks being placed. Robed figures. Then there was a blinding light and the feeling of his body heating and feeling as though it may catch fire. The vulpine psychic sucked in a quick breath and took a few steps back. "Don't speak to me about purity.. You're no healer.. You're a Necromancer." The fox spat the last word out with anger and disgust, but it was obvious from the look in his eyes and the tension in his frame that beneath his disdain was a primal, instinctual fear. Though the fox did not know why it set him on edge, there was a good reason. "Your idea of sacrifice is taking the last shreds of life from the dead and dying and giving it to others, calling it healing.." His left handpaw tightened and shook. "You don't want me to heal you with my false magic? Fine. You keep those accursed things away from me.." The fox broke his gaze to look over the jackal's shoulder and then slowly moved around him, keeping a good distance between them as he went to finish off the remaining mages.
'What was that?' the fox wondered to himself as he crept through the woods. He occasionally looking back to make sure the jackal wasn't following him. 'Necromancy is widely considered a more questionable art, I know that. But I.. maybe..' Micah sighed in frustration as he caught sight of the mages and slumped against a tree, using it as cover in case they detected him and sent more magic his way. "This has to have something to do with that day.." With the feelings fresh in his mind he took a deep breath and channeled his feelings into his magic. Pressing deep into his mind he bent the borders between mind and body and siphoned bits of his intelligence and channeled it into physical strength. As he came out from behind the tree to confront the last spellcasters he released a second spell. His hands crackled along his staff as he channeled energy into it. "Let's see what you've all got.."
-
The bully, not having expected to succeed with his reckless tactic, was taken by surprise when a swift blade swung just close enough to his head to make him uncomfortable. Thankfully, he hadn't been the target, he realized, when he caught sight of who was wielding the sword. Seeing Neshar with the blade in hand did very little to comfort him, however, and it showed when he snarled at the thief, “Damn it, watch where you're swinging that thing!”
Without waiting for the thief to make another strike, Mort clamored over the commander, quick to retrieve the morningstar that was suddenly available to his right. Again he exchanged weapons – the rapier for the morningstar – still not his axe, but once more, better than what he had. He'd only caught part of what the commander was saying, not that it mattered as he drew up the spiked weapon and brought it down hard on the man's helmet. Talk was cheap, and in all honesty, the bully's patience had worn thin from many elements of the situation. He drew the weapon up another time and swung to the side, landing a hit on the shield hard enough to kick it up out of the way for the time being. After that, the canine continued to swing the weapon, striking over and over again until he was sure that the man was dead, and even then he continued to take out his frustration, seemingly in a frenzy until he finally came to a stop, panting. Blood dripped from his knuckles and he swayed slightly. Although he had managed to draw a lot of his blood into himself, he'd still lost a lot, and it was clear that without his magic, he'd been fatigued.
-
Neshar felt a wave of… something sift through his body when he felt the blade connect with the man’s arm. He pulled the blade back, grinding deeper into the flesh as he watched the shield finally drop out of his hands. After that, he felt a more familiar feeling surge through him. It seems like that the magic from his childhood curse was returning.
The thief soon hefted the weapon up, and dropped it onto his shoulder, though he frowned under his mask when Mort snapped at him. Well of course the large bully wouldn’t appreciate the fact that he just reduced a major problem to something smaller. The feline was about to make a retort, though he found himself taken aback by the Captains resolve. His eyes quickly looked down at the injured arm then back to the captain.
“Wait… hold on. Pointless? You’re bleeding to death and your arm’s almost amputated there, guy…”. Though… it seems that the only response Neshar would get would be a sudden violent torrent of blood and brain matter spraying into the air. Which Neshar instinctively recoiled at by reflex to cover his already masked face. It didn’t prevent him from coating him in it… or any more as Mort just… had a field day with the man… turning him into a disgusting beef stroganoff. The feline might have a -small-instinctual and reinforced excitement for inflicting pain, but even this level of violence perplexed him.
“R…right…” The feline murmured… looking down to the bully. His eyes sifted over him for a moment, the feline… unfortunately unable to determine the other’s physical… or mental health. “Just… don’t kill the two survivors. I’d like to ask them some questions about their faction’s motivation. I’m…. going to go get Xavier. Have fun with… this.”
With that… the feline quicky turned around… the recent events made him completely forget about the surviving mages as he walked near drake, and stopped. He crouched down after noticing the blood on his leg, and took a look over it. He quirked his brow as he noticed drips running sporadically up the body… to the hand… and there he saw the dagger. Neshar let out an annoyed sign and immediately covered his mask with a palm. “Next time… leave the damned thing in if you can’t stop the bleeding. Or you’ll bleed out before someone who can gets to you.” After giving the male a bonk on the head for his idiocy, he quickly went to work on some first aid. Just some application of a herbal salve on a cloth pad and tightly bandaging the leg.
After that the feline was back on his feet and jogging off to the forest. Once he arrived at the grotto where he left Xavier with a questionable ally, the first thing he did was check around for any signs of a struggle before looking down to the two. “Good news. The fight’s over. Are you well enough to walk back? Or would you like to ride the cat’s back?”
Of course that statement could be pretty vague. Either the displacer or the thief.
-
"Die alone, then." The jackal's apathetic looked turned towards a look of anger and disgust as the new character had called him a necromancer. The degradation of his magic was enough to make his blood boil, and for a split second he pounded his fists upon the ground angrily; using his magic to seek out the mage who had just insulted not only his magic, but his dignity. The area around him would then darken slightly, material appearing before the jackal released it; allowing it to fade back with small flashes of light. He stopped there, although heavily tempted to kill those who opposed him as he'd been taught to. He grit his teeth and lashed to the side angrily, his magic clear from the ally for the time being. Feeling his magic was now much stronger, he looked to the commander's previous spot, gritting his teeth into an abrasive grin. He approached slowly, still stumbling against the grass while he grunted. "Balance is not necromancy. Equilibrium must be maintained." He mumbled to himself, phased and frustrated before reforming his clawed gauntlets.
"Destroy the shield." He spoke rather clearly, his eyes to the bully as his cloak materialized on his shoulders. He cracked his neck and his knuckles, attention towards Mort mainly as he prepared to treat his wounds. His hands briefly vanished into darkness before some cloth appeared on it, and he neared him to wrap the wounds before healing them. He grasped his head in exhaustion, "And somebody better talk all nice to that stranger before I communicate to him physically." He growled angrily, the binds around the mages disappearing briefly after that comment. Juiced but exhausted, the jackal began to wrap at the bully's wounds and awaited the return of Xavier. "I need a drink," he panted exhausted before remembering that the previous scene had ruined the chance of returning to the town. He clicked his tongue angrily, his brow furrowed and his young gaze filled with it. Quiet and frustrated, he punched a wall with his gauntlet, gasping in pain and shaking it off before they faded back into the light used to create them. He looked at his fists to see bruises and angrily crossed his arms.
-
Drake would be partly shocked at Mort's outburst. How someone could savagely do something like that... wait... that commander probably was going to do it to him. But now that the shield wasn't being held he could feel the mana flow properly around him giving a mana blast to the surviving mages. Knocking them to the ground or making them scatter for them trying to dodge the blasts the shots clearly going around everyone, so the twin tailed fox could easily finish them. Ah that felt good after that horrible accident. He was going to begin patching up his wound with his magic but Neshar began patching him up before he could object or even say anything. As Neshar was in the middle of the treatment all he said in retort to Neshar's assumption was. "I was going to toss this at the commander..." he'd then lazily toss the dagger to the side. "Seems like that was a great idea. Also i do have a little healing magic so i wasn't worried about bleeding out."
Wether Neshar replied to him or not it didn't matter. He got up and limped over to the commander. He wanted to study the enchantment on that shield. If he could harness that power as a spell that would be a great upgrade to his barrier spell. and good thing he came when he did too. Hearing the Jackal threaten the shield Drake would quickly speak up. "Woah woah woah, no nead to be so hasty. I can probably figure out a way to turn that into a spell, or make it safer for the group... or both! No need to break it, it's inert when not carried so we're fine." He'd then pick up the shield with his telekinesis figuring the discussion is already over.
-
Xavier still sat against the tree where he had been propped up, in much the same condition as he had been left in. Not much time had passed, but there was a clarity to the way he looked around that betrayed exactly how much he had recovered in that short time. His physical strength was still lacking, but at least he had gathered his wits. When Neshar spoke the hybrid just dipped his head. "I doubt you would have returned if we still had a fight on our hands." The otter-wolf replied, eyes straying over to the displacer beast that was still standing guard.
"Time is still an issue, but I can walk." He responded after a pause, pushing himself up to his feet. The colorful coat was already in the process of repairing the damage that had been done to it, the fabric magically mending itself over the hole burned through the back. Xavier, for his part, managed to stand without swaying, though it clearly cost some effort to do so. He began to walk, with as much haste as he could muster, back towards the sound of battle. He cast Neshar a sideways glance as a resounding boom echoed through the forest.
"I think you missed a couple." Xavier said, smirking. "Is everyone alive?" He questioned, carefully watching the feline's expression as he did so.
----
The few remaining mages, scattered and leaderless, mostly fled back the way they had come from. The few that stayed were quickly undone by the combined magic of Drake and the kitsune, certainly unable to withstand what the might of their entire squadron could not.
Xavier and Neshar returned to the main group just as the last of them fell, the hybrid looking around at the scene curiously. The mangled corpse and the dozens of bodies laying around speaking more about what occurred than what words could convey in such a short period. Having already been informed by the thief, the otter-wolf wasted no time asking anyway.
"Glad to see everyone in one piece." He spoke up, nodding his head towards the distant forest. "Unless anyone objects, we should carry on, and swiftly. This force they sent against us was most likely diversionary. They were meant to stall us long enough for whomever is in charge to access the artifact ahead of us." His eyes find the magical shield floating near Drake, then shift to the fox-coon himself. "Do not bring that infernal thing with us. If you must have it, bury it here and we will return for it. If somehow it was wrested from your control and activated again it could quite easily be used against us, to great effect."
Xavier did not feel entirely comfortable disclosing the fact that magic-eating items such as that could quite literally suck the life out of him. He would keep that fatal weakness to himself. He looks over to Camille, who was lingering near the edge of the group, and clearly unhappy about something. "Do you have any energy to spare?" He asked, and his haggard appearance left no question as to why he asked, the hybrid still looking.... off. The best way to describe it was if somebody had dipped him in ashes, dulling and graying his usually vibrant appearance. He seemed so much more mundane, mortal; the overflowing character and powerful presence of the hybrid diminished to a mere man, standing among a gathering of titans, and barely standing at that.
-
The fox paused for a moment as he felt something about him and quickly turned, but saw nothing. Micah knew he felt something and could only suspect it was an incomplete spell. 'Could that jackal have actually considered trying something? I'm going to need to keep a close eye on him. I hope I'm wrong, though..' Turning back to the remaining mages he watched as some of the fleeing men were swept over with a wave of magic. The foxes face twisted into a scowl. Attacked, accused, insulted, possibly targeted for an attack by someone he tried to help. The foxes magic continued to siphon from his mental powers into his strength and he charged in.
Channeling all his frustration he went after the nearest remaining mages as they tried to climb back to their feet and escape. CRACK! The kitsune's staff connected with a skull and sent a surge of psychic magic through it, creating an aftershock of pain as he moved on to the next mage. The mage continued striking at the downed enemies until the last few made for a hasty escape. Striking one last opponent just barely within reach he stopped to switch back to his psychic magic.
"Oh no you don't.." the fox muttered as he struck a straggler with a surge of psychic feedback, scrambling his senses. Picking out another straggler his eyes burned bright as he viciously invaded his mind. Using the weight of his own psyche he sought to tear his mind asunder causing sudden injuries to manifest in his mind and body. Letting the second mage drop he turned back to the one he had stunned and clutched his amulet. "Stay there, or I swear I will blast your skull to pieces." The psychic didn't have the spell floating around in his head at the moment, but he had done it before and would have to remember to draw it out of his memory another time. All the same, it was unlikely that this weakened mage would try to call him out on his bluff.
Whistling softly a ten foot length or rope slid out of his haversack and wrapped around the other mages arms and torso then knotted itself. With a quick jab to his back the psychic sent the man falling forward onto his face then sat down. All the spirit energy he'd spent had taken it's toll. If the fox had been ready for this he'd have handled himself better, but already he could feel himself drifting a bit. Reaching into his cloak he pulled out what looked like a prayer slip, but it was made of silver. Micah set his staff down across his lap and held the Ofuda in both paws and began muttering softly to himself in a quiet prayer.
-
The thief sniffed softly as the displacer beast tailed the two. He wondered if he should go ahead and dismiss it… or if he should hold onto it. But… he finally made up his mind when they got into the clearing. Tension was high, and trust was pretty borderline with this group it seems. Keeping an evil creature nearby would definitely raise an alarm. And so without a due, Neshar gave the creature a pat on the shoulder and gave him leave.
“Missed a couple? Well we did some prisoner capturing amongst the beheading,” The feline hummed softly as he lowered the great sword, and adjusted his grip so he was holding it in one hand by the blade. He then tilted it back so it was now resting on his shoulder with the hilt past his head.
“Which brings up two questions. The first is with time being fairly critical, do you want to take the chance to question the ones we have captured. Or should we just push on like buffalo soldiers?” The feline asked. The feline also took a moment to stop, and grab the half dead assassin who took a blow to the skull by the collar and dragged him along.
The second question that came up was spoken softly in a hush hush way. The thief didn’t even bother to turn and look to the man. “And are you mortal? Last I checked, you shrugged off wounds that could put any one out of commission, and it wasn’t till that shield came up did you look like you were at death’s door step. That… is a detail worth knowing if you didn’t wish to rely on pure luck of me noticing your condition.”
-
Drake would hear Xavier speak about the shield as it came within reach for him. He made a very valid point. And to even tweak the shield to make it so the spells that touch the shield would be the only one's affected would take too much time. Something that they didn't have. Without a word he would begin to look around for a place to hide the shield. He would quickly settle to hide it under a nearby bush using his telekinesis spell to simply cut through the dirt to hide it. And just to remember which bush it was he'd snap a twig on the outside of the bush that was noticeable if you were looking. He'd even make a very quick scribble in his note book of the location. Nothing else to do but take it when they finished with the temple.
-
Camille wrapped Mort's wounds and tightened the synthetic fabric around them after approaching the bully. He then kneeled by the form of the once deadly commander. A gently stroke of the head, and the jackal squinted down. Ready to leech whatever he could for obvious purposes, though he waited. His team was likely to examine him, and the withering of his magic would definitely ruin quite a few of the clues they could get off of his body. He stood and then was drawn by Xavier's statement. Slowly approaching, he took each step with a scowl across his face. His bloodied robes and physical exhaustion was reason enough, though he continued to rest a hand on the other's shoulder.
The energy was familiar, and the link between the two was reformed. "I will return you to a previous state." He grumbled lowly at the otter hybrid, a physical pain filling the creature's form as his magic was restored slowly but surely. The jackal grit his teeth and wavered his own stance. His head down, though he continued. For a moment, the hybrid could feel the trace of Camille's memories; a flavor of malice and another of residual fear, replaced by wrath. The link was broken after they were felt, with the jackal releasing the hybrid to his previous glow and his beads to a dimmer color. Healing Xavier was definitely something that took much more effort than their more mortal accomplices. He met dark eyes with the other before looking away sharply from the trio formed by the thief and them. He grumbled, "We're still short a new fellow. And you're going to need to talk to him before our.. Tongues lash again." He spoke to Xavier, dark gaze still away for a moment before meeting them once more. "Given how he entered, I'm not too sure we can trust him. So I'll leave your lives to yourselves.. Just waste it." He looked to Neshar afterwords to acknowledge his presence, cracking his neck slightly and braiding his hair while the others regrouped and he stayed quiet.
-
"If any are awake, we should question them, quickly. If not, I think it would be best not to waste time." He replied, though his focus was clearly more on the second question.
Xavier smiled absently at the thief, an expression clearly meant to mask the fact that he was thinking over the question more than he cared to clue in the thief. Under normal circumstances it might have been effectively disarming, but now it was unconvincing at best. "In the sense that I can die, certainly, I am mortal." He replied after a time, his smile dropping to a more serious and honest expression. "I exist here in the material plane, and I am flesh and blood.... in part." The otter-wolf pushed his coat aside slightly, revealing the thin scar that ran along his chest. It looked to be from a thin blade, and the width suggested he had been skewered upon the blade. "This is from one of the few times I let my guard down around somebody I thought I could trust. It would have killed a normal man, and came near to killing even me." He let his coat fall back into place, smoothing down the fabric with a paw. "I am unsure of what I am, in truth. My body is corporeal, but also seems to be unnaturally created by some sort of magic. Advanced alchemy has been my best hypothesis to date, though no records exist of anything that could create a sentient creature of my particular make."
He shrugged. "All in all it just means I'm a little more durable... but I am adversely affected by items such as that shield. I think I require some level of arcane energy to function, I feel as frail as an old man without it."
----
Xavier nodded his thanks to the jackal as he placed his paw on his shoulder, feeling the energy flow through the touch and into his being. It was not a pleasant sensation, but through the pain Xavier could feel his strength returning. His jaw clenched, though he made no sound, the newly revitalized muscles tensing under the sudden strain of the transfer. He let out a soft huff as the emotions surged through his psyche, his eyes catching the mage's briefly before the other looked away. The touch broke and Xavier's body relaxed, both his color and his strength restored. He offered the man a warm smile, one that he was almost certain would not be returned. Camille had always struck him as a black sheep, but that glimpse into his soul had revealed he may harbor a more personal darkness. Something Xavier resolved to inquire about at a later time.
"I will go speak to him. Anyone that wishes to join me may do so freely, of course, but if anyone can coax some information out of these... zealots... it could come in handy. I doubt that they thought such a small force would entirely stop our progress." He glanced at the dead commander, eyes narrowing slightly. "Though it seems a waste to use a warrior of that skill as a mere distraction." He turned slowly and began making his way towards the fox who was still in view some ways away, having moved into what appeared to be a meditative position on the grass. As the hybrid approached, he made sure to step on a few twigs as he neared, stopping several yards away.
"Thank you for your assistance." He greeted, having seen the fox doing battle against the red-clad militia for a short period during the fray.
-
The fox was sitting there quietly, it seemed like they had spent quite a bit of time discussing things while the fox sat alone. As he was nearing the end of his prayer his ears twitched to the sound of a twig snapping and the hybrid's thanks. Micah paused mid sentence, then continued without opening his eyes. The prayer continued for about half a moment before he took a deep breath and seemed to relax. His aura resumed a bit of it's holy energy, though it was still a bit weak.
"Thank you for kindness. I know there is at least one amongst you who cares not for my life." The fox opened his eyes and they flickered for a moment as he got up to his feet. "I suppose you're the leader of this group. That's very well, as I can appreciate a level head, no offense to the rest of you," the fox added on looking to the others. "I feel like we may have more than a thing or two in common, good sir. I also live a very unusual existence." The fox looked at him with a knowing look and smiled softly before turning to the fallen enemies. The corner of his lips twitched into a frown and he sighed sorrowfully, "I shouldn't have killed them like that. What a shame.. I suppose there's nothing to be done now." Turning back to the group he seemed to have almost forgotten them in his moment of regret. "I'm here looking for something. I don't know if you were hired to fight these lot or if your reasons are your own. Perhaps we're both looking for the same thing?"
The fox leaned forward against his staff which seemed to be rooted upright where he'd stuck it. A minor telekinetic trick.
-
"It also takes a bit more work to put you back together than the rest of us." Camille grumbled lowly, cracking his neck slightly and turning quiet once more as the fox reentered. He sighed and began to put his hair back in his normal braids, ears perked and the jackal not letting a single one go unmissed. He left a trail of wilted weeds and grass beneath his feet and cloak while he moved, using his newborn tactic to restore what little energy he could and constantly heal over the wounds he had suffered. In small amounts over time, of course. The canine approached the fox, figuring if he laid another hand on his foes he would probably just end them before information could be gained.
His anger momentarily quelled, he kept a rather blank expression while looming behind the hybrid. He allowed the newest member of the group to finish before retorting, and even kept the tone rather mild. "Given the grave insult, no pun intended, I restrained myself quite well." He stood forward upon speaking. "It's not a world of sunshine, and if I really didn't care for your life, I would've just laid you to premature rest when my anger had the best of me. If you didn't kill these men, they definitely would have done so to you. It's just the real part of the battle field." He looked to Xavier to allow him to do more of the talking, lest his own hot head get to him. The jackal clicked his tongue, eyeing over the hybrid once more. Further trying to understand how life flowed through him and why it took so much more energy to restore said flow compared to others.
-
The thief rolled his eyes at the mention of trust. Surely, a man like this feline would rather not hear of anyone’s experience of betrayal. In the underground, there was always a high chance of betrayal, and something you’d expect. Even if it was from a friend you could call a brother. It was always business, rarely anything personal. But still, that’s what made the thief so odd. He never lied. He with-held the truth yes, but he never lies. And he sticks by his honor and word.
“Well seeing that we are sharing secrets now. Perhaps I’ll start by mentioning that I was… no… that’s bad grammar… am a soldier. And had been for quite some time, and under orders both for honor and by status,” The feline said as he tugged at his clothes neck line to reveal the collar, which held all the information of who he belonged to… and where he was from. “To investigate and handle the scene at hand. An order I’m afraid I will have to even if it means the end of me.”
The feline’s gaze then dipped down to one of the injured assailents, who was lying on the ground trying to crawl away. The feline shrugged lightly and planted his foot on the back of the cowering man’s head. “Oh no no no… you and I need to have a chat~” The feline hummed softly. There was a thin smile on his lips as he leaned down to pluck the man up and… drag him off.
“Stop struggling. Come on. I’m not going to torture you. Not going to kill you. Just gonna talk.” The feline's tone was oddly pleasant, and the way he said it was just... off handed.
-
Drake would be looking around the battle field as this discussion continued on. He'd greet the newcomer as well in time, but amongst several others in chat he'd get a little lost especially from the current sounds from it. He'd wouldn't want them to completely retell the conversation for his sake. But he would be listening carefully nonetheless. Not wanting to be left out entirely. Because of this he'd catch Neshar talk about his... service, And the tension between the Camille and the new fox.
As he quietly listened he would examine the rest of the equipment from the fallen for useful enchantments or spells which could be used for later purposes. Even trinkets or materials to be used for enchantments. It's always good to look around.
-
The hybrid listened with polite attentiveness as the vulpine spoke, his eyes carefully training on his movements. He was relatively certain that they were on the same side, but he had not survived the battles he had by being naive. As the man spoke he slowly rolled his shoulders and neck as well, working the stiffness from his healing body. He seemed to be catching the worst of the injuries the last few battles, but that was nothing new, and probably better for him to soak up that level of damage than any of the rest of them.... aside from Mort, perhaps.
A sly smile crept over his lips as the fox finished speaking and Camille spoke up, something Micah could see and the jackal could not. He had already known that the jackal had a hard time healing him, but hearing him grumble about it seemed to amuse him. "In any case, I'm sure there will be another battle ahead of us. You fight well and your abilities are of a type I do not often come across. If you're bound to be in this scenario I would much rather you be with us than against us...?" The statement was phrased almost like a question, the hybrid holding out a welcoming paw.
As he extended this gesture the earth beneath there feet rumbled slightly, drawing Xavier's eyes up across the forest. The rumbling subsided quickly, and no visible sign of what had just transpired appeared. The hybrid's expression darkened slightly, his brows lowering for a brief moment. "I think we had best hurry."
-
The fox arched his brows a bit and worked the tension out of his own muscles, mirroring the hybrid. Micah bowed his head and let his headfur hide the sly smile he exchanged with Xavier. It seemed they both took a little joy in this strange jackal's complaints. Evening out his expression he raised his head and considered the jackal's words then nodded his approval. "You are absolutely right. If I hadn't killed those enemies, they would have killed me. However, if I hadn't stuck around, they might very well have killed you." The fox arched a brow to him then shrugged, "It's just the real part of the battlefield. I won't go boasting about my abilities to slay you. I really don't feel it's the gentlemanly thing to do, given that we are supposed to be on the same side. We both have our advantages, to be sure. I do believe this isn't the kind of mystery that needs to be answered, though."
Shrugging as he stood and unfixed his staff from it's spot he went to shake the hybrid's hand then paused as he felt the rumbling. Looking around, he slipped his goggles down, though he wasn't sure if he'd be able to see anything past the haze of magic that was undoubtedly hanging in the air. "Seems there's no rest for the wicked. Guess that means we don't get much time to catch our breath either. I have enough energy to go on, though not as much as I'd like to. We may want to head back to town after we deal with this disturbance."
-
Drake would keep to his business as the discussion would seem to end. Finding a few interesting enchantable trinkets that, if necessary he could sell some of them too for rent or food. And when he picked a silver locket off one of the deceased and feel the ground begin to shake. Quickly making him drop the locket back on the corpse hoping to appease whatever spirit he angered and would look up to see the group felt it too. Realizing quickly that it wasn't a spirit he'd quickly pick up the locket again. Hoping the rest of the group didn't see his slight panic from the earth shake.
-
Well… it definitely seemed like he wasn’t going to have enough time to properly interrogate his current victim. The feline looked down to the struggling man that he had dragged off and gave him a sharp crack across the back of the skull. He watched as he fell into unconciousness, and shook his head lightly. He quickly took his cult like uniform from him. This could come in handy. Now he had the robes of an assassin… and what ever ranking this man was. Still an infiltrator just needs to adapt if it ever came to it.
With a slight nod of his head, he turned and returned to the group, finding them both just as confused as he was mentally about the ground suddenly shaking like it was going to split wide open. “So I am going to wager that whatever is ahead, is going to be big and ugly. Soooo… we still got a job to do, yeah?”
-
"Seems that way." Xavier replied with a nod,noticing that in the chaos of things they were suddenly missing a certain Hell-hound. Hopefully they would encounter Mort up ahead, Xavier had not seen him take any injuries that he thought would not be easily healed. The strange skeletal bird was gone as well. He hesitated but a moment in regards to their missing companions, but they had no time to spare looking for them.
"I'll take the lead, it's probably going to be tight quarters in the ruins so maintain a formation. If you get separated you're on your own." He eyed their small group. "Fit in where you think you would be of most use, and try to keep those beside you safe." He figured they didn't need much further instruction, battle-trained as they were. He turned quickly, his coat fluttering slightly around his knees as he strode across the forest floor. It was only another small section of forest away when they started walking past pieces of stone building that had long overgrown, which soon transitioned into sections of wall and even entire structures covered in vines and moss. The forest thinned, and a large aztec--like pyramid became visible through the brush. It stood perhaps fifty feet tall, with a clear opening about halfway up the side facing them.
Xavier did not stop moving, but even from behind you could tell he was keeping a close and careful eye on the structures around them. There were signs that there had been a camp here shortly before, piles of ash from cooking fires, barrels set up to collect rainwater, and flattened spots of grass about the right size for small tents. There was a distant sound and Xavier held up his paw for those behind him to stop. After a few seconds the sound came again, more clearly. From the doorway of the ruins there was the sound of crunching, and again a few moments later. It seemed to be drawing no closer, so Xavier lowered his paw and carefully made his way up the steps. "Anything inside is bound to be hostile. Don't hesitate." He whispered before moving further into the darkness of the pyramid.
-
Drake listened carefully to Xavier as he told everyone that was still around what was happening. With no complaints to the orders he agreed quietly with a nod and began following right behind Xavier. Figuring his barriers would help defend the party from magical attacks plus his bonuses to his melee capabilities.
Along the journey he would also keep his eyes peeled, mainly for places to that could potentially hold loot for the trip back. Considering the army that went for the ruins though it was all picked clean, but he remained optimistic.
Once the group reached the temple Drake whistled in surprise, impressed by the ruins. Well mainly the fact that the most of it remained intact unlike everything around it. "Very interesting. I wonder what secrets lie in wait in there." He muttered as he eyed the temple from top to bottom. He would tail behind briefly because of this but join the group again as he noticed Xavier climb up to the entrance. Not wanting to be the first one left behind.
-
Micah followed along with little concern. The fox was certain that with extra care they could get the drop on anything they came across. Looking around the obvious camp as they came across it he slipped around some of the barrels and old tent spots, looking for anything of interest. Pausing at one of the barrels he pulled out a nearly empty waterskin and dipped it into the barrel. Once he'd caught back up with them he examined the water for any poisons or contaminants.
The psychic stopped as he too heard the sound coming from the ruins and looked, trying to examine the structure, but he had trouble believing there was anything he could examine on the surface of the structure. "You didn't need to tell me that twice."
-
Neshar followed close behind Xavier. The magic in his eyes starting to grow more apparent the less light that there was. The eyes steadily began to pour out a very thin aura, the eyrises glowing. And as it grew darker, the glow began to cover the entire eye. The thief even seemed to be more alive. His awareness heightened, and his fatigue ebbing away. He was definitely at home in this environment.
But before they proceeded any further. The feline reached out with an arm, and clasped the otter by the shoulder. “Before you go any further… these ruins tend to have tight hallways, and occasionally traps. If not that… then they are perfect for ambushes.”
“If you will, allow me to scout ahead. I’ll disarm anything that will be an immediate threat. I’ll leave a sign if a hall has been cleared or not.”